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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553595">Guardian Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky1980/pseuds/Spooky1980'>Spooky1980</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tom Hiddleston Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bodyguard, Crimes &amp; Criminals, F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Original Character(s), Sex, Stabbing, Stalking, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28553595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spooky1980/pseuds/Spooky1980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone is stalking actor Thomas Harrington and a bodyguard is assigned his case.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written by Carrie Hunt </p><p>Posting on behalf of Carrie Hunt.</p><p>Original character based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dear Tom, when we met I knew I was your true love! Those other girls aren’t worth your time! Why can’t you see me?</p><p>All my love,<br/>
Guardian Angel”</p><p>	It was a sunny day in Beverly Hills. The palm trees were rustling gently in the early morning breeze. But things were not starting well at this lovely house. The security guard called the head of security. “Sir, you need to come out here and see this.”</p><p>	“See what, Gilmore? Is it the pigeons again?” They’d been having trouble with visiting flocks of pigeons, so there was a lot of cleanup involved. They were not allowed to remove them, or even humanely trap and release them elsewhere. The current owner liked animals. Pigeons were basically gangsters with feathers and wings and they walked around like they owned the place. </p><p>	“Uh, no sir, not this time. You really need to see this.” </p><p>	Muttering to himself, Frank Callahan set down the mug of coffee he had filled and stalked to the door. “What?” His unease started when he saw that Smith, an experienced security guard, was looking pale as he held out a plastic bag. “Give it here.” When he looked in the bag, he felt himself pale. “Jumping Jesus on a pogo stick, we’ve got to move on this!” Callahan had been a cop for twenty years, and he recognized something that could get quickly out of control. “Do not mention this to anyone!” </p><p>	In the house he called his old partner, O’Bannion. “Hi, Terry.” </p><p>	“Hi, Frank. How’s the high life in Beverly Hills? You still working for Harrington?” </p><p>	“Yeah. He’s decent to work for and I don’t have to fish him out of the pool when he gets drunk and falls in.”</p><p>	“That’s always a plus. So why the call?”</p><p>	“We’ve got a problem. Could be a stalker. Already got a dead animal.” </p><p>	“No warning?” </p><p>	“None. We monitor his fan mail and email and haven’t seen anything hinky.”</p><p>	“You never know what’s going to set one of these fruitcakes off. What was there?”<br/>
Callahan told him about the bag and the note. “You don’t want to end up like this. All my love Guardian Angel.” </p><p>	“And the awards ceremony is coming up in a couple weeks. We’ve got to move fast. I’m going to see if Lauren Howard’s available.” </p><p>	Callahan let out a sigh of relief. Lauren Howard was a former detective who was one of the best in the security business, especially if it needed to be low-key. Harrington would be a whole lot safer if she was on board. He contacted Harrington, who was curious about the meeting, but willing. His agent was available as well. </p><p>	Thomas Harrington was an actor who had zoomed from little-known to world famous in just a few years. He was English, tall, handsome and a gentleman without being a stiff. He also had an incredible talent for acting and loved to dance. And sing. Callahan liked him and wasn’t looking forward to telling him about this problem.</p><p>**</p><p>	Lauren had just finished a workout with her punching bag and was heading for the shower when her phone rang. It was O’Bannion. “Hi Terry.” </p><p>	“You’re panting. Did you just work out or did you beat someone up? Again.”</p><p>	“He needed it. He was trying to rape a sixteen year-old girl and he had a knife at her throat. And that was years ago. So what’s up?”</p><p>	“And then you terrified everyone in the courtroom at the trial.” </p><p>	“Oh for god’s sake, I just told them what happened! Time to let this go, Terry. What do you need?”</p><p>	“I’ve just gotten a call from Callahan. He’s working up in Beverly Hills and they have what looks like a stalker who’s come out of nowhere.”</p><p>	“Probably not out of nowhere, Terry. Who’s being stalked?”</p><p>	“Thomas Harrington. I want you on board if possible.” He gave her the time.</p><p>	“I’ll be there.”</p><p>	Harrington.She’d seen most of his movies, although not the one about the horse.  She loved horses. In his movies his voice made her feel…something. She hadn’t felt that for years. </p><p>			**</p><p>	After the call, Lauren headed into the bathroom for a shower. As she undressed, she avoided looking at the scars on her torso. They reminded her too much of Sam, and they’d never heal completely, anymore than the scars on her heart would. She’d had what scar removal she could on her body and at least now she no longer looked like a target in a shooting gallery. </p><p>The shower was quick and she dressed in minutes. Picking out a white pantsuit, she wore sensible low-heeled shoes. Image was all-important in her business, so she wore her blonde hair pulled back in a simple chignon. And no makeup except for a bit of blush and some lipstick. With her pale coloring, she didn’t want to look like a ghost. Instead, she looked like what she was: intelligent, tough, competent. </p><p>With that, she climbed into her black Carrera and roared off. When she reached the address, she took a brief look at the house, not too overdone for Hollywood, and a good look at the security she could see. She was admitted through the gate when she announced herself, and on the drive up to the house she saw several cameras following her progress. Callahan had done his usual competent job. He’d been a good, tough cop and respected on the force. </p><p>The door opened as soon as she climbed the steps. Callahan was waiting. “Hi, Frank, how are you?” </p><p>“Better now that you’re here.”</p><p>She smiled at him. “You old softie, some people run when they see me.” </p><p>“Only the ones that have something to hide, Lauren.” </p><p>“Not many of those these days, Bucko. Okay, where are the big boys?” </p><p>He opened a door into a library with paneled walls and lots of books. She resisted the urge to cruise the shelves and focused on the men in the room. “Good to see you, Terry.”</p><p>**</p><p>Tom Harrington stood as the tall woman walked in and he held out a hand. “Tom Harrington.” Even at first view, he was impressed. With platinum hair and green eyes, she was the kind of beautiful that showed no intent to impress.  She shook his hand firmly and greeted everyone, before giving the room a comprehensive look. </p><p>As she sat, she smiled cooly. “What’s going on?” </p><p>O’Bannion brought her up to speed, gave her a sheaf of papers, and handed her the bag. To Harrington’s surprise, she read the emails first, laying them down in order. She looked in the bag with no expression, before setting it on the floor. “All right, where do we go from here?”</p><p>“I’m going to get that stuff to CSI and see if there’s anything to go on, but I doubt it,” O’Bannion said. </p><p>“And I’m going to add some more cameras around the place, I’d that’s all right with you,” Callahan said to Harrington.</p><p>“Of course,” Harrington replied, but he was waiting to see what role Ms. Howard was to play. </p><p>“Are you seeing anyone seriously right now?” Ms. Howard asked. </p><p>“Not at the moment.” He got a glimmer where this was going. </p><p>“The best way for me to keep you safe is to be right beside you,” she said cooly. “Would that work for you? I know the awards are in a couple weeks. It would probably work that long. What do you think?” </p><p>Harrington drew a breath and thought fast. He couldn’t think of any reason why not, but he had to ask one question. “Would you take a bullet for me?” It just seemed so outrageous.</p><p>“If I do my job right it won’t come to that,” she answered calmly, but the look on her face was an answer in itself. Wow.</p><p>“She’s the best there is,” O’Bannion stated flatly. </p><p>“Then yes, please,” Harrington answered. </p><p>Suddenly she smiled, and he saw another woman altogether. “Then I accept. May we speak privately?”</p><p>** </p><p>After everybody left, Lauren looked at her employer. “I’m going to have to be with you, and I’d like to discuss how we’ll do it.” As soon as that left her mouth, she felt her cheeks heat briefly as he smiled. “Let me rephrase that. I could pose as an assistant, but it would be rather obvious, since most of your staff is known. Or I could be a new woman in your life?”</p><p>He regarded her while he thought. “Romantic?” </p><p>“It would be the best way for me to stay really close” They both laughed, and the tension ramped down a couple notches. Oh, he was a charmer. Good thing she was immune. “Would you mind coming with me while I look over the house? I might have some questions.” </p><p>He followed her as she went through each room, checking every window for line-of-sight, every fastening and lock. “Are there any secret entrances to any of the rooms? Some people find them amusing.”  </p><p>“Not that I know of. We aren’t in a mouldering castle. This is L.A.” </p><p>She shot him a look. “Mouldering starts in about twenty years out here. You’d be amazed at what cops have run into.”</p><p>He had the slightly baffled look of a person completely out of his element, even in his own house. “This just seems so…"</p><p>“Dramatic?”</p><p>“Well, yes.”</p><p>“And it could turn out to be nothing at all, but we can’t take that chance. This is why I’m here, to be as inconspicuous as possible, while posing as your latest squeeze.”</p><p>“I don’t actually have squeezes,” he protested mildly.</p><p>Lauren let herself simper up at him, batting her eyes. “Then, we’ll give them something to talk about, baby. Every guy falls for a bad girl at least once.” </p><p>He laughed at the transformation from brisk professional to starstruck female. “I guess we will. Do you want to talk about how this is going to go? We’ll have to be convincing as two people just getting to know each other. Romantically, I mean.”</p><p> “You have a good point.” She considered him. This part wasn’t going to be easy for her. She hadn’t even gone out to dinner since Sam…her mind flashed to the pictures she’d seen of the carnage. She’d been out cold by then. </p><p>“Why do I feel like you’re going to arrest me?” Harrington asked plaintively. </p><p>“Well, I’m not,” she shot back. “Look, just put your arms around me and…” When he did, she immediately stiffened up like a board. “Geez! What is wrong with me?” She shook herself impatiently. </p><p>“We barely know each other,” he said easily. “It can be awkward.” Looking around him, he saw pillows on the bed. “What about a…pillow fight?” Grabbing a pillow, he pitched it to her and snatched the other for himself. He barely turned around when she walloped him. The next minutes were silly beyond belief, but when they were both on the floor, covered in feathers and laughing like maniacs, the ice was broken. </p><p>“This was inspired,” Lauren gasped, then sneezed when a feather went up her nose. </p><p>**<br/>
Harrington looked at her. In her white outfit and covered in downy feathers, she looked like some beautiful bird. Still laughing, she climbed to her feet. She was dazzling. </p><p>“Okay, I’ve got to get these feathers off or I’ll never live it down. And you look like an owl.”</p><p>They spent the next few minutes minutes removing feathers from themselves and each other. It was impossible to be stiff after that. “Why don’t we try the hug again?” This time when he put his arms around her, she relaxed and leaned in. “That’s better,” he said. </p><p>She smiled up at him. “Yes, it is.” </p><p>Someone knocked on the door. “Is everything all right in there?” </p><p>Lauren laughed. “We’re fine, Frank, we’ll be out in a minute.” She turned to Harrington. “Your staff is gonna have a fit when they see this.” </p><p>Before she left the house, the contract was signed. But she couldn’t linger. She had a lot to do before the morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Actor Thomas Harrington is being stalked and a bodyguard is hired to protect him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt</p><p>An original fiction with characters based on Tom. <br/>Posting on behalf of Carrie Hunt </p><p>Currently teen rating due to themes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dearest Tom,</p><p>I wait for you every night. Where are you? My heart is bleeding now. Only you can stop the pain.</p><p>I’m waiting.</p><p>Guardian Angel”</p><p>	An hour after she went to bed, Lauren knew it was going to be a bad night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the pictures from the night Sam had been killed and she almost died, herself. All she remembered was seeing him on the ground, running to cover him and incredible pain, then nothing. Would it have been better if she remembered what happened? </p><p>Giving up, she got up, put her gloves on and went to duke it out with her punching bag. By four AM she was exhausted enough to try sleep again. She knew that she at least had to look refreshed for their “lunch date”. Mercifully, she did sleep with no dreams, except for a brief flash of Tom Harrington covered with feathers that made her laugh. </p><p>	The morning came too soon, but she rolled out of bed. Doing stretches, showering and putting on makeup to hide the circles under her eyes, she spent a long time curling her hair, before looking through her clothes to find a proper dress. She didn’t have much in the way of feminine clothes, but there was a dress her mother made her buy several years ago that was a pretty pink print with spaghetti straps, and covered her back. It was short as well, so she grabbed some high heeled sandals and was ready. Putting her gun on last, she strode out the door. It was showtime. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>	Tom Harrington was ready for their date, but he had to admit to himself that he wondered what Lauren would be wearing. He was also intrigued by the situation he found himself in at the moment. It was hard to imagine it was true, though. It just seemed like a movie script. </p><p>	Hearing the front door open, he was amazed at the woman who walked into the room. She was wearing a short, flirty pink dress and high heels. She had a pair of the longest and most beautiful legs he’d ever seen. Her hair was long blonde curls.</p><p>	“What do you think?” she asked. “Will it work?”</p><p>	He realized he was staring and found his voice in a hurry. “Oh, yes. You look perfect.” </p><p>	“Okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “Where did you think of to seem to not want to be seen?”</p><p>	“Armondos, down by the beach.”</p><p>	“Good thinking.” Armondos had been around for years. Although by the beach, it was in the trees, thus seeming secluded, but lots of people ate there, hoping to see the famous. </p><p>	They wended their way through the lovely canyons on the way there. The sea breeze was blowing through the trees and he could hear the ocean in the background. He had requested a table, one he knew looked like it was supposed to be private, but really wasn’t. He ignored the murmur of the diners. As he pulled out the chair for Lauren, he caught a trace of scent that was only noticed when he was that close. Light and floral, it was delicious. Leaning back, she batted her amazing green eyes up at him. Only an act, he reminded himself.  </p><p>	When the waiter brought the menu she only wanted a salad, in true Hollywood fashion. Women were not supposed to eat in L.A., but she crossed her eyes briefly when she said it, which almost made him laugh. “Behave,” he said softly and saw her smile. </p><p>	“Oh, you are so funny,” she purred, leaning forward. “This is so exciting.” The strap on her dress slid off her shoulder and he slid it back up for her. </p><p>	They ate and flirted through the meal. She giggled a lot, which he stored up for future reference. </p><p>It would be fun to tweak her about after this was over. Was there going to be an after this was over? Yes, if he could pull it off. She was a fascinating mass of contradictions that he would like to figure out. </p><p>	When their dessert came, Lauren held out a bite to him. He ate it, then took her hand sucked the rest of the frosting off her finger. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw cell phones <br/>everywhere. Good. He noticed her shivering and took off his jacket, putting it around her to warm her. On the way out he pulled her into a corner and kissed her quickly. The commotion when they left told him that this had been played just right. The pics would hit the social Media sites before they got back to his house. “I think we did it,” he said to Lauren. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>“I’d say so,” Lauren answered. She wondered what had just happened during lunch. It was amazing how, no matter why they were there or how idiotic she was supposed to act, it felt real on a whole other level. It’s only because she hadn’t been on a date in five years. That had to be it. It had been a hellish five years, and she’d had no desire for romance. That seemed to be changing. </p><p>She snuck a look at Harrington. He was handsome in the well-bred way that the British Isles could produce. She’d always loved old Leslie Howard movies as a kid and Harrington seemed another in that line. When he’d put his jacket on her when she was cold, she’d melted inside. What was it about a gallant gesture that made even modern women soften to mush? </p><p>Their next gambit was to be played that night. Then they’d see what happened. They pulled into the back gate of his house and parked in the back. Inside, Frank Callahan took one look at Lauren and said, “You need a nap, girlie.” </p><p>Lauren normally would have ignored him, but she needed the time to pull herself together, so she agreed and stretched out on the couch in the library, after taking another wistful look at the books on the shelves. Hopefully, before this was over she’d have a chance to really look them over. For now, though, she stretched out and was asleep in minutes. When she woke an hour later feeling refreshed, she took the chance to prowl his bookcases. Almost at once, she found The Riverside Shakespeare and pulled it off the shelf. In a moment, she was lost in other times. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>Harrington saw his library doors open and glanced inside to find his bodyguard lost in a book. She was sitting on the couch, her long legs tucked under her.  He recognized his Riverside Shakespeare immediately. She was holding it like an old friend, obviously reading something she loved. “Where are you?” he asked quietly. </p><p>“I’m at the part where Viola is telling Orsino that she loves him, even though she’s pretending to be a boy. For some reason that part always gets me.”</p><p>“Unrequited love?” </p><p>“Maybe, but the duke himself can’t understand why he’s so drawn to this boy. It’s very poignant.”<br/>He sat down in his favorite chair. “Shakespeare loved to turn the sexes on their ears.” </p><p>“It did make it easier in some ways, since boys were playing the female roles at the time, but I think he was also aware of some of the things that women faced, with little power to handle them.”</p><p>“What happened to your copy?”</p><p>“ I…got shot a few times in a bust that turned out to be a setup. I was in and out of hospitals and physical therapy for a couple years. When I finally got better, most of my books were gone. My Riverside was part of it.” Her deadpan voice told him a lot. It had been a traumatic time.</p><p>Shot a few times? What? “Who got rid of your things?” </p><p>“My mother ditched my books. She didn’t think that they were  important. What she did think was important went into storage.” </p><p>“What were you doing while this was going on?”</p><p>“I was in a coma for a while. When I woke up, everything was gone. I’ve been putting my life together again and now here I am.”  </p><p>“Did you run into some of the prejudice as a cop?” he asked curiously. She had been in a heavily male-dominated environment.</p><p>She shrugged. “A little bit at first, but they pretty much left me alone after I broke the hand of a guy who grabbed me. For some reason he didn’t want it to go to IAD. He was lucky. I could broken his neck.”</p><p>“Remind me not make you angry.” Deadly, beautiful, and a lover of Shakespeare. So why did his every instinct tell him she needed rescuing? From what? </p><p>She gave him a direct look. “About tonight. You’re an actor and you’ve played love scenes. You must know lighting, camera angles and all that.”</p><p>“I do. What’s going on tonight? I know we discussed it briefly, but what do you have planned?”</p><p>“I know a guy,” she said.</p><p>“And I just feel like I fell into Film Noire.”</p><p>“He’s a low-level paparazzi. I know,” she said when he made a face. “He’s a sleaze, but he’s an honest sleaze. He can hang around outside and photograph us. His name’s Ian Blaine.”</p><p>“Through the windows of my bedroom.” </p><p>“Yeah.” Lauren looked uncomfortable. “There’s one more thing. I’m…um…out of practice with the romance thing. Would you mind running that part, too?” </p><p>Out of practice? She was serious. His mind was already framing pictures of them in his bedroom. His intransigent body, on the other hand, wanted this woman. In his bed. Right now. He was going to be walking a fine line.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt </p><p>Posting on their behalf. </p><p>Original fiction with characters based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dearest Tom, </p><p>I’m getting so tired of waiting for you. I’m beginning to get angry. You’d better step up soon—you won’t like me when I’m angry. But for now I still love you. You own my heart.</p><p>Your very own,<br/> Guardian Angel” </p><p>After a quick dinner that involved actual food, Lauren knew that it was almost time for their debut as “lovers”. After Ian showed up she knew it was time. Running upstairs to a guest room, she slid into a black slip dress. More correctly, it was a slender excuse for a dress. She ran a brush through her blonde curls which then looked like Angel curls. How ridiculous! Why would anyone want hair that was this much trouble? Should she wear shoes or not? She dithered for a moment or two. Adding some makeup so she wouldn’t be a white blob, she wondered about earrings.  This was all ridiculous! In the end she grabbed the shoes and earrings and marched down the hall to the master bedroom. Tom and Ian would have to decide. She was done with this stuff. </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington heard her stomping down the hall to his room. He went to meet her and was stupefied. She was lovely in a way that was both enticing and hilarious, when he saw the expression on her face. He’d seen a cat once with that expression when it slipped and fell into some water. It behooved him to move carefully. “Hello.” </p><p>“Hi.” She held up the spike heels. “Shoes or no shoes?” </p><p>“I won’t be showing your feet, so no shoes,” Ian suggested. He’d been staring at her, entranced, since she walked in, but the photographer in him was starting to wake up. Ian was young and slight, with curly red hair and freckles. </p><p>“Thank god.” Lauren dropped them to the floor. She held out long earrings that flashed with the sparkle of real diamonds. “Earrings?” </p><p>Harrington had an image from a movie where someone had taken an earring out with his teeth. Could he make that work? “Yes on the earrings?”</p><p>“All right.” Lauren slid them in. She seemed a bit happier now that those huge decisions were made. Then she saw a bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne. “Champagne?” She brightened immediately. “Can we have some?” </p><p>Not the worst idea to loosen her up a bit. Harrington dealt with opening the bottle and pouring glasses for them both. The thin crystal glasses tinged when they toasted each other. Lauren became a different woman after one glass. She was relaxed, happy, and interested in what was going on. “I’d forgotten how much I love champagne,” she said with a sigh. “Ian’s outside now?” </p><p>“Yes. We found the best line of sight into here. He’s also on my cell right now. Ian?”</p><p>“Right here, Mr. Harrington.”</p><p>“Hi Ian,” Lauren piped in. </p><p>“Are you two ready?” </p><p>“Let’s try a couple of test shots,” Harrington answered. He took Lauren’s hand and they walked over to the window. When she looked up at him, she said, “Could I make one editorial suggestion?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>“Unbutton your dress shirt.”</p><p>He unbuttoned his shirt. </p><p>“Great idea,” Ian said. “It looks great. Lauren, will you stand in front of the window?”</p><p>They stood together in different poses.. “What do you think of a full-out romance novel backbend?” Harrington suggested. Lauren giggled as Ian said “They’d never buy it Mr. Harrington. People don’t kiss like that anymore.”  </p><p>Harrington decided right then that one day he would have that kiss with Lauren. “How about dancing? Do you dance, Lauren?” </p><p>She tossed her head, making her curls shimmer. “My grandmother was a Ziegfeld girl.”</p><p>He took her into his arms as soon as the music began. Oh yes, she knew how to dance. They stepped, and stopped when Ian would ask them to. Once on a turn and again when he spun her back into his arms. What would they do next? With music off it was quiet in the room</p><p>Then he saw Lauren in front of the window as she looked out into the night. There was a full moon silvering the world. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. He was standing right behind her and he leaned forward to kiss the spot where her long neck met her shoulders. She purred and let her head fall back against his chest. “I’m going to take the earring out now,” he whispered, and with some dexterous tongue work it was out of her ear and in his hand. </p><p>Laughing, she whispered, “Don’t lose it, it was my Grandmother’s.” </p><p>She turned in his arms and looked up at him. In her eyes he saw heartbreak, courage, and a dawning wonder. He was lost when she put her hand on his chest. He knew he was going to kiss her and it wasn’t going to be any movie kiss. Tangling his hand in her curls, he pulled her head back and their lips met. It was so right that he fell into it without thought. Lauren answered his every move and they sank onto his bed. </p><p>“Guys?” Ian said plaintively through his phone. “Are we done? My camera’s smoking.” </p><p>It was like a bucket of ice water thrown over him. What had they almost done? Thank heavens for Ian. Lauren was also coming back to herself. She sat up, her cheeks rosy from embarrassment now instead of passion. “I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at the floor. “This was completely unprofessional. I apologize. I don’t…”</p><p>Picking up her hand, he kissed it. “Don’t,” he said gently. “No one should apologize for a kiss like that..” </p><p>“I’m going to change,” she said, and left as quickly as she could without running. </p><p>Ian hesitated at the door to his room. “Is it okay to come in, Mr. Harrington? Would you like to see the pictures? They are something else.” He handed the camera to Harrington and stepped back. </p><p>TomHarrington blinked when he saw the pics Ian had taken. These were pure gold. Lauren and he were framed in the window perfectly and each pic was better than the one before. Lauren was staggeringly lovely and the sensuality between them was phenomenal. These pictures were dynamite. But there were a couple he wanted for himself alone. “I want copies of them all, but these last two are just for me. Not the press.”</p><p>“Absolutely, sir.” </p><p>“From the quality of these shots you should be behind a movie camera, not chasing B-list celebs. Have you done motion camera work? Where did you go to school?” </p><p>“Yes, it’s my true love, but I…couldn’t do college, sir. Just didn’t have the money.” </p><p>“Bring me some more examples.. I may be able to get you some work. You have an excellent eye.”</p><p>“Really? I’ll do it tomorrow.” The slender young man was obviously excited as he turned to leave.</p><p>“Where did you meet Lauren?” </p><p>“It was five years ago, before she was…hurt. I was chasing down a low-life to grab a shot when she stopped me. I got smart with her and she dragged me out of my car and put the fear of god into me if I tried anything that stupid again. The guy I was chasing was on drugs and he shot somebody the very next week. Lauren might have saved my life. When I called her to thank her, we got coffee and then ran into each other from time to time. She’s amazing.”  </p><p>“That she is,” Harrington agreed. He knew that there was more to Lauren’s story than anyone was telling him. He already knew that she had been shot and nearly killed. It had ended her career as a police officer. What wasn’t he being told? </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p>What had just happened? Lauren scolded herself on her way to the guest room she was using. Dear god! That was the most unprofessional thing she’d ever done in her life. Throwing her slip dress on the floor, she jumped into the shower and washed all the goop out of her hair, ending with a cold rinse that almost made her squeal. Toweling dry, she started to feel like herself again. After pulling on a pair of old jeans and a tank top, she brushed her hair and felt almost normal. Okay, back to Harrington’s room. She just hoped that the pictures would do the trick. </p><p>Gathering herself, she went to Harrington’s bedroom and peered in. “Were the pics all right? Could I see them?”</p><p>“Hi,” said Ian and held out the camera. “What do you think?”</p><p>Lauren made sure that her face was impassive as she viewed them. They were phenomenal, beautiful and sensual. She looked completely abandoned in her response to Harrington. What must he think of her? She handed the camera back to Ian.  “These should do the trick.”</p><p>“I’ll say. Any explosions you hear are going to be social media blowing up!” </p><p>“Tabloids first, Ian,” she reminded him. “Then social media. Get the best money you can.” </p><p>“No problem. These are worth a small fortune. Night, you two.” </p><p>Lauren turned to Harrington after Ian left. “Now we wait.” </p><p>He was watching her with a smile. “Indeed we do.” </p><p>It wasn’t fair that he was so likable as well as handsome, and that voice? Gods! She had to make sure that she kept her mind on the job of protecting him. “I’m going to go get some sleep, now. Goodnight.”</p><p>“Sweet dreams, Lauren.”</p><p>For a mad second she wanted to turn around and walk into his arms. Suppressing it firmly, she kept going.  She didn’t think she was going to get much sleep with him just down the hall, but she slept like a baby that night. No dreams at all.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt </p><p>Posted on her behalf. </p><p>Original story with character based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Lauren woke up early and feeling better than she had in months. Could it be the champagne? It had to be. It had been years since she had any. Nothing to celebrate. She wasn’t about to attribute any of her good mood to Tom Harrington. Out of bed, she did her stretches and warm-ups, before getting dressed and heading down to see what there was to eat. Some form of real food. </p><p>She’d barely opened the door when the hooting started. “Grow up,” she said, giving them the finger. “Did you drink all the coffee? Again?” </p><p>“Making coffee is women’s work, right guys?” Murphy had always been a jerk. </p><p>“Donuts?” She said hopefully. </p><p>Callahan held up a half-eaten donut. “Sorry, Lauren. It was the last one and I had to fight to get it.”</p><p>“Jerks,” she muttered, wondering if there was toast or an egg around. Where was the nearest McDonalds? Not in Beverly Hills, that was for sure. The way this job was going, she was going to lose weight fast. Her doctor would be mad at her. At last, she headed to the pantry and dug up some meal bars. They would see her through today.</p><p>Then she saw the scandal rags on the table. Already? Wow. Anything to do with Harrington was big news, though. It was a special issue. They were plastered on the cover. First from the lunch, then from their late night date.  She had a rule about even touching a scandal rag, but this was work, so she opened it. “Who is this woman?” The headline screamed. Inside were mostly pictures with scattered reactions from the diners at lunch, and many insinuations as to what was going on. It looked pretty obvious. Someone had a great shot of him sucking the frosting off her finger. She had been on the receiving of that and it had given her the feeling she got when an elevator went up too quickly. However, she pushed that thought away and concentrated on what was in front of her. </p><p>The coverage of their romantic night was shocking. She looked completely abandoned in Harrington’s arm. The pictures told the truth, she had been lost there in his arms. How could that have happened? In the four years since the shooting, she’d had no desire at all for anything other than to survive that day and make it to the next. Operations to fix this and that, leaving her weaker every time. Finally, she stopped any further attempts to be fixed and decided live out the rest of her life. There were no hard and fast answers for her case, anyway. She’d started getting stronger almost immediately. </p><p>She’d realized soon after she came out of the coma that her previous life was gone. Her condo along with the entire contents. Her only memory of that night was seeing Sam lying on the ground, shot several times. As she covered him with her body she was shot, herself. The rest she knew from what she’d been told and the crime scene photos. Sam’s last act on this earth had been to take her gun and shoot the man who was going to kill her. What was she thinking? There was no moving on from that. </p><p>She jumped up and started to work. There was research to do. Her instincts were saying that this didn’t feel exactly right for a stalker. Lauren had learned to trust her gut. She needed more info on this Guardian Angel. She ran name searches, retrieving mostly junk. It was amazing how many people felt like they had guardian angels. Crazy. Still, she dug into the whole mess, looking for any thread to follow. She was starting to get the no-coffee headache.</p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>Harrington came downstairs and found Lauren in the breakfast room, hard at work. Her laptop was running and stacks of paper were all around her. “Good morning.”</p><p>“Hi.” She looked up. “How are you today? Did you see the scandal rags in the kitchen? I think we did it.”</p><p>“They were epic.” When he started to take a sip of latte, he saw her nose twitch. “Would you like this? I can get another one.” When she held out greedy fingers, he laughed and gave it to her. </p><p>“All I need now is a Krispy Kreme donut and I’d be in heaven. The plain glazed ones, just out of the oven. A religious experience.”</p><p>“Cop food?” From the wistful look on her face, he immediately planned to find one of those donut stores. Maybe he could get some delivered or send a guard to bring some in with him.</p><p>“Hell yes.” </p><p>Looking next to her he saw a meal bar beside the computer. “Is that the only thing you’re going to eat?”</p><p>“Nothing left. Cops, swarms of locusts. Pretty much the same thing.”</p><p>“That’s not enough to run on all morning. Come have breakfast with me. Eggs, bacon, crumpets?”</p><p>She brightened immediately. “Did you say bacon?”</p><p>“Bring the coffee.” </p><p>“Here we are.” There was a tempting spread on the small table and chintz pattern china. Holding her chair out for her to sit, he seated himself across from her. His cook really was a wonder. They ate breakfast, chatting easily. He had a flash of them eating breakfast together every morning, maybe with Lauren not dressed like a SWAT team leader, but he could get used to that, too, he supposed. Her silvery hair was piled carelessly on top of her head. Even with no makeup, she was still lovely. She could be a princess in disguise trying to escape from her country.</p><p>“Have you got anything today that I don’t know about?” she asked. </p><p>“No, just doing research for a new role.” His research generally involved hours/days/months of time, but it was essential to his understanding of whom he would be playing. </p><p>“Good,” she answered. “I’m going to be all over the grounds today, so I’m in this getup and wearing  a security jacket. I don’t always dress like I’m ready to invade a small country.” </p><p>“It has a certain charm.” </p><p>She laughed. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”</p><p>“I’ve never met anyone like you before.”</p><p>For a brief moment her eyes softened and she smiled, but he saw her pull herself back to the job at hand. “Thank you for breakfast,” she said, “but I’ve got to get started on my day.”  </p><p>He stood as soon as she did and watched as she strode away. She was already in cop mode. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>Keep your mind on what you’re doing! He was so charming that she was in danger of losing her head. She was drawn to him, but she was here to protect him, dammit! That was it. Accordingly, she pulled on a security jacket and ball cap to cover her hair, then she found Callahan and started checking the new camera angles, heading outside to check them as well. She spent the day walking the grounds, checking the front gate, the back gate. She even shinnied up a tree or two.  Even with all this work, she felt like she was missing something essential. It was maddening. Back to research to find what she missed. </p><p>She walked into another bright room. His house really was lovely. It had marble floors and beautiful rugs scattered along the way. He had managed to find a Beverly Hills house that wasn’t overwrought, or looked like a movie set or a mall. And he’d added the right amount of antiques without making it look like a museum. This house had a well-bred, English feel. It reminded her just a bit of her grandmother’s house, which had been her real home while she was growing up. She hadn’t been there since Grand had died and left it to her. Was it still there or had it been discarded like the rest of her life after the shooting? Her mother had been very thorough.</p><p>Her head came up. There was a helicopter approaching fast. She ran to the library and rapped on the door. When Harrington said to come in, she entered. “This is probably wrong, but will you come with me? There’s a helicopter nearing the house.” </p><p>He looked up with a frown, but obligingly followed her out of the room. “Do you really think someone’s planning an invasion?”</p><p>“I don’t know what to think,” she answered. “I’m just being careful.” She led him to an alcove in the hall. When he walked into it, she stood in front of him. He started to speak and she turned, placing a slender finger on his lips. “Shhh Tom, until we know.”  Her radio went off and she answered it. After a brief conversation, she turned to him. “All clear. Just a news copter. Sorry to interrupt your work.” </p><p>When she turned to leave, he caught her arm. “Wait a moment please. You really think it could be this serious?” </p><p>Looking him in the eye she said, “There are things here that don’t add up. This stuff could be coincidence, but cops need a lot of convincing when it comes to that. You’ve been incredibly cooperative, but what do you think?”</p><p>He sighed. “I have no idea. None of this makes any sense.” </p><p>“Not an international spy posing as a movie star?” </p><p>“No. I promise. Sounds like a great idea for a movie, though.” They both chuckled. </p><p>“You did play a spy onetime,” she reminded him. </p><p>“I did. The operant word is ‘Played”. His smile was the definition of charm. </p><p>She had the feeling that this man could convince a dog to turn into a cat. With an inward sigh, Lauren said, “Sorry about the interruption. I’ll let you get back to work.”</p><p>She spent the rest of the day  going over the research she already had, Lauren got a call from a former snitch. She didn’t even know that Tigermanwas still around.  </p><p>“‘Sup, Lauren?”</p><p>“Tigerman, it’s been a long time. How are you?”</p><p>He had a voice so deep it sounded like it came from the bottom of his shoes. “Staying’ out of trouble these days. Mostly.”</p><p>“Good to hear from you.” She’d always liked Tigerman. More importantly, his info had always been good. “So what’s up?”</p><p>“I didn’t even know you were back in business, Lauren. Glad to hear it. I got word of a kidnap and ransom in a big way. Someone’s going after a big star to hold The Mouse to ransom.” </p><p>“What?” She was stunned. Could this be what she was sensing? “Any idea of who it is?” </p><p>“No, and I wouldn’t have bothered to call anyone but you. You was always straight with me, Lauren. Hope I see you around sometime.”</p><p>“Thanks, big guy. And thank you for the tip!” </p><p>After they hung up, Lauren stared at the wall in front of her. Could there really be two different groups after Harrington? This changed everything.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter  5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt </p><p>I'm posting this on the authors behalf. </p><p>Original character based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Tom, I’m not calling you dear anymore. Are you going to turn out to be just like the others? I’m not going to bother to send this, just know that you’re on notice. Another stunt will bring my wrath down on you.</p><p>(Not your) Guardian Angel” </p><p> </p><p>After calling Terry O’Bannion, who reluctantly decided to call in the FBI, Lauren expanded her research to international kidnappings for ransom. She found some intriguing hints about a kidnapping in Italy, but it had gone terribly wrong and the woman had been killed. There were a few vague references to attempts that had missed their mark. The entire issue was downplayed whenever it was even reported. On the spot, Lauren called a meeting with Callahan and his staff. There was an outdoor event tomorrow and they needed to make plans. Of anything coming up, it was the best place for the attempt. </p><p>Long, hard hours of planning later, they were as prepared as they could be. Lauren pulled on her security jacket and went for another look around the house and grounds. </p><p>**</p><p>In his study, Harrington pulled off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been long lost in another place and time, but now he was aware of movement outside his window and there was Lauren, checking the latches on his French doors. Again. “Hello,” he said. </p><p>Lauren looked up quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”</p><p>“Not at all, I’m just going to call for some tea. Little cakes, sandwiches? Would you like some?” He knew he had her when he said cakes. She was too thin and could use a bit of feeding up. </p><p> “All right.” She walked in and sat down in the wing chair. “Sounds nice.” She pulled off her cap and shrugged out of the security jacket. “God, that feels good.” Her tank top could have been sprayed on her. Not for the first time he noticed her long, beautiful legs. They chatted until the teacart rolled in and  the tea dispensed in fragile China cups. Lauren did not take cream in her tea, but she delicately ravaged the sandwiches and cakes. </p><p>“Did you eat lunch?” he asked. </p><p>She cast a guilty look at the cart. “How could you tell?” </p><p>He laughed. “A lucky guess. What are you doing for dinner tonight? You need to keep your strength up.” </p><p>“If you check your messages, we asked for a meeting tonight at seven. It’s about the event tomorrow.”  </p><p>“Will an hour cover it?”</p><p>She considered for a second. “It should.”</p><p>“Good. Then we’ll dine at eight.” </p><p>She looked confused for a second, but nodded. “All right. Thank you for tea.” </p><p>He watched her walk out of the room, already in work mode. She fascinated him, but what was he doing? In a week she would be finished here and they’d go their separate ways. Why did that disturb him so much? He remembered the feel of her in his arms and how right it was. He hoped they’d have a chance to find out what it was between them. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p>Lauren moved faster than her thoughts. She pushed away the questions about what she was doing. She had never let herself get personally involved on a job before, but she’d never met anyone remotely like Tom Harrington before, either. <br/>Whatever they decided to do about their attraction would have to wait until the job was finished. Or, maybe he was just amusing himself while she was here. One way or the other, she’d find out eventually. </p><p>After another couple hours, she decided that it would be easier to get into Fort Knox than Tom Harrington’s house in Beverly Hills. That had to be enough for tonight. Tomorrow would be another story. It was time for the meeting, so she headed into the kitchen and found the team waiting. Harrington was there as well. There was the distinct smell of burned coffee in the air. Cop coffee. Grabbing a mug, she powered up, ignoring Harrington’s slight wince as she liberally poured in sugar and creamer. “It keeps us on our toes, right?” Everyone raised their mug and drank.</p><p>“I think we’ve got things under control for tonight, but tomorrow is their best chance, in my opinion.” </p><p>“Why? Because it’s in the open?” Harrington asked.</p><p>“Partly. We don’t have absolute control of anything there. There will be people and vehicles coming and going and the slightest change could set things in motion. If I were going to kidnap you, that’s where I’d do it. Our code word will be ‘ankle’.”</p><p>**</p><p>“What would you do with me if you did kidnap me?” </p><p>He loved the way her eyes flashed briefly, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “That’s a story for another day, Harrington.” Everyone at the table laughed, and the meeting was over. He could feel the tension in the air as they went their various ways. </p><p>Dinner in the library was boef Bourguignon, which she ate with every evidence of delight. When she stood to leave, he unveiled peche melba and she sank back down into her chair. “You are a deeply evil man. It’s a good thing I won’t be here after next week or I wouldn’t be able to walk out the door!” </p><p>He laughed. “I can just see you all blue and being rolled to the juicing room.” </p><p>She laughed at the very idea. “Okay, maybe not that badly, but still…” She walked to the window and looked out. </p><p>“You spend a lot of time looking out of windows. What are you seeing?” </p><p>“The past, sometimes.”</p><p>“The past can’t be changed.”</p><p>“It can’t be remembered if there’s only a blank…what am I saying? I’m on duty in five minutes.”</p><p> She was gone in an instant, leaving him looking after her. What had she almost said? Nonetheless, he felt safe in his house that night.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter  6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Story by Carrie Hunt </p><p>An original fiction with characters based on Tom Hiddleston <br/>Posting on behalf of Carrie Hunt  </p><p>Currently teen rating due to themes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lauren was up early the next day. After breakfast, she went to get ready. She took care with her makeup and hair, needing to strike the right note between sexy and brainless. She curled her hair and left it loosely drawn into a knot at the nape of her neck. The white dress went on before the high heeled sandals. Very high heeled sandals, that might play a crucial role in the events of the day. Giving herself one last check, she muttered, “Showtime.” </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington was dressed and ready to go. It was a couple of minutes later than Lauren had said they’d leave. Then he looked up and saw her at the top of the stairs. He forgot to breathe for a moment. She looked like an angel in white as she floated down the stairs. “Everybody ready?” A few whistles came from the kitchen. “Grow up, morons.” </p><p>The spell broken, he held the door for her as they breezed to the white limo. During the trip to the event she was constantly in contact with the crew, who were approaching from different points. Nodding, she shut her phone off. “Are you ready?”</p><p>Eyeing her critically, he said, “You’re perfect. You’re too perfect. You need to be mussed a bit.” Drawing her close, he mussed her quite thoroughly, but no kissing. She had forgotten her lipstick. “Now you look just right.” </p><p>“So do you.” She had mussed him right back. She smoothed his hair back and straightened his tie, but it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t supposed to be. “I’ll be back,” he said, getting out of the limo, noting that she was sitting so that her gorgeous legs were prominently displayed, but the rest of her was in shadow.  </p><p>**</p><p>Lauren watched as Harrington interacted with his fans. He actually knew some of them by name, and for the most part, they were friendly and respectful. He seemed to draw the energy around him into himself, and like a true performer, he thrived on it.</p><p> The first sign of trouble came from Callahan, who called that there was a big wreck on the 101 southbound. When the call came in that there was another pileup on the 101 northbound, she was ready to pull the plug. Getting out of the limo, she wobbled toward the group. “Tom,” she whined, “I can’t get my cellphone to work.” </p><p>Excusing himself, he walked toward her.</p><p>“Ankle,” she whispered, and he caught her when she lost her balance. </p><p>“Darling, I asked you not to wear these shoes,” he said, picking her up.</p><p>“Put me down, you idiot,” she hissed. </p><p>“Got to make it look real,” he answered. “Not that real,” he growled when she put her hand to her forehead in a pretend swoon. Setting her down in the limo, he removed her shoe and moved her foot. </p><p>“Ow.” It really did hurt a little.   </p><p>“And now we have to get this looked at.” He swept his disconsolate fans a bow. “I’m so sorry about this,” he said. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” Climbing into the limo, they pulled away quickly, turning down a lane and stopping in front of Lauren’s Carrera. </p><p>“Let’s go, hot stuff.”  Inside, she pulled out a metal box and dropped her cellphone in it. “We can’t be tracked this way. Would you put yours in it, too?” <br/>He added his phone to the box. “We only need to be gone for two or three hours, and I know just the place.” With that, she swept off down dizzying roads and into a valley road that was almost invisible. </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington enjoyed watching her drive, she had a sure hand on the wheel and knew the area well. They parked beside a small stable with a pasture beside it. “Ta dah!” She gave a piercing whistle and waited. She seemed happier and younger here, which said a lot about the intensity that she brought to her work. </p><p>The ground started to shake and the biggest, whitest horse he had ever seen came thundering up, followed by a small black donkey. The two ran up to Lauren, nosing her delightedly. She laughed and petted them both. “Tom, this is Joe, my Shire gelding, and Tiny the donkey. My darlings. Do you mind if we go for a short ride? Can you give me a leg up?”  He tossed her up on the horse’d broad back and off they galloped. With Lauren in her white lace dress, no saddle or bridle, they should have looked ridiculous, but they were magnificent. She was flushed and smiling when they returned, and she slid off Joe’s back and into his arms. “Thanks. That was wonderful.” Harrington realized that it was the first time he’d seen her completely happy. Following her into the small stable, he was impressed with the roomy stalls, fresh hay, water, containers of food and general comfort of the place. Anything that Lauren loved was well tended. </p><p>She reached up to get a halter down and was stretching as it was just out of reach, when he stood and pulled it down. At that very second her giant horse leaned out of his stall and shoved her right into Harrington’s arms. Their lips met in a smoldering kiss that neither wanted to end. Tiny the donkey saved the day when he brayed for attention. They sprang apart, with Harrington on the verge of laughter. Lauren’s stricken look did make him laugh. “Darling, it was a kiss, not the rape of the Sabine. Did you just break the body guarding codes of conduct?” </p><p>“All of them. About ten times over. It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t find you someone who can keep their mind on their job.” </p><p>“Not going to happen. I don’t want anybody but you guarding my body.” </p><p>She eyed him severely. “Yeah, if I’d just guard it and not want to drag you off for a roll in the hay.” </p><p>He brightened. “Was a roll in the hay a possibility?” </p><p>“You know damn well it was, hot stuff.” Even her worst frown couldn’t hide the laughter lurking in her green eyes. “But it’s got to wait until the awards are over. If you’re still interested, that is…” </p><p>He backed her up until he had her against the wall of the stable. His arms were on either side of her.  He was close enough again to smell the tantalizing floral scent she wore. “Yeah, I’m interested.” </p><p>“It’s a date, bucko.” </p><p> </p><p>Seeing her look out the window, he asked, “You look out of windows a lot. What do you see?” </p><p>“Looking for my past, maybe. Or wondering if I have a future.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” </p><p>“I had a past like everyone does, but then all I see is a crime scene photo. Everything stops after that. My partner is dead and I’m lying on top of him. They thought that I was dead, too, at first. I have no memory of anything after I got shot. When I woke weeks later, I found that my entire life was gone. Sam was dead, due to my injuries I couldn’t be a cop anymore, my condo had been sold. I had nothing. The doctors cobbled me back together the best they could, but not everything could be fixed, and I finally made them stop trying. So here I am, trying to figure out where I go from here. The last thing Sam did before he died was to take my gun and kill the goon who was going to shoot me. I guess it’s hard to see my way forward from there.” </p><p>Even after four years. Harrington stared at her, trying to imagine the scope of what she’d gone through.  So that was the story behind the lost look he’d seen in her eyes a few times. “That would make Shakespeare sit up and take notice.” </p><p>“Yeah. A little Hamlet, a dash of Romeo and Juliet, a tad of lady MacBeth…” </p><p>“All’s Well That Ends Well.” He could have kicked himself as soon as he spoke.   </p><p>Her eyes fell. “Except it didn’t, did it?”  </p><p>“No, and I can’t believe I said that.” He pulled her into a loose hug, but let her go when she stepped back. </p><p>“It’s going to help a lot if we keep our mitts off each other for the next week.” The heat in her eyes was a tantalizing foretaste of pleasures to come. Neither of them knew where this was going, but it would be fascinating to find out. </p><p>At a soft beep, Lauren pulled out a beeper. “Okay, it’s back to reality as we know it.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter  7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting on behalf of Carrie Hunt </p><p>Original fiction based on Tom Hiddleston </p><p>Written by  Carrie Hunt</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they pulled through the gates of Harrington’s house, Harrington heard Lauren mutter, “Oh, great.” There was a black car in front of the house and a man and a woman were talking to Frank Callahan. Lauren, who had been relaxed and cheerful to this point became blank-faced and formal. “Catch up with you in a minute, Tom. I’ve got to deal with this first.” </p><p>Out of the car she strode over to the group. “Jack, it’s good to see you.” </p><p>The man she greeted was at least 6’5” and brawny and handsome, with dark hair. He had the attitude of someone who usually got what he wanted. But from the look on his face, he didn’t want Lauren. “Don’t know why you say that, since you haven’t spoken to me in four years.” </p><p>Lauren straightened but didn’t back up a step. “It’s not like you had anything to say I wanted to hear. Right?”  </p><p>He looked her up and down. “What are you all tarted up for?” he asked abruptly. </p><p>Lauren raised an eyebrow. “It’s called doing my job, Jack,” she retorted. “I’ll explain it to you sometime.”</p><p>When Harrington saw the man looming, he walked over to them. “Tom Harrington, and you are?” Almost imperceptibly, Lauren moved in his direction, but this man noticed it instantly.</p><p>“Jack Striker, FBI.” The handshake was a pissing contest. Harrington’s long and rangy body had plenty of strength, and the other man acknowledged it by releasing his hand quickly. “And this is my partner, Marge Hardy. You’d better watch yourself with Lauren. She gets people killed.” </p><p>Marge was average height and thin, but she looked like she could handle herself in most situations.  She had short red hair and was dressed in FBI black. She’d been watching the interplay between Lauren and her partner closely. She nodded to them when introduced. </p><p>“Why don’t we move inside?” Harrington led the way through the side door. </p><p>“Good idea,” Lauren said. “Why don’t we get some coffee? We have a latte machine, but I’m afraid to mess with it.”</p><p>“You do?” Marge sounded happy. “I worked at Starbucks the whole time I was in college.” </p><p>“Really? Let’s go!” The two women immediately headed into the house.</p><p>“I don’t get it,” Striker said. “Marge is tough enough to chop off my head and eat my brains. Two minutes with Lauren and they’re besties. I will never understand women.” </p><p>“Maybe it’s genetic,” Harrington said. “I have two sisters. It could go back to caveman days when the women were keeping the children while the men were out hunting. And even then, some of the women were hunting as well.”</p><p>Striker looked at him. “You may have a point.” </p><p>**</p><p>In the kitchen, Lauren watched with awe as Marge immediately took charge of the latte machine. She didn’t seem disturbed at all when it started making ominous noises. “Never show fear to a latte machine,” Marge said seriously. “It only encourages it to act up.” </p><p>“So, how long have you been Jack’s partner?”</p><p>“A year.” </p><p>At her reply, Lauren laughed sympathetically. “Jack can be a handful to deal with. While you’re finishing up here, I’m going to get out of this ridiculous getup.”</p><p>Marge eyed her. “So that’s not your usual look?” </p><p>“Not exactly,” Lauren laughed. “I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>Upstairs, Lauren put on her work clothes and got her hair into a quick chignon. She felt much more like herself when she went back downstairs. So far, she liked Marge a lot. It was a shame that Marge worked in DC, because they might be friends, given the chance. </p><p>On her way back to kitchen, she saw that some papers had fallen to the floor where she’d been working. When she gathered them up, she saw a missing persons report from five years ago. She grabbed it and carried it with her to the kitchen.  </p><p>She saw Striker’s look when Harrington sat at the table. “Mr. Harrington is involved in every meeting about the situation.”</p><p>“Have it your way,” Striker replied, with enough sarcasm to make Harrington’s eyes narrow. </p><p>“I’ll try to muddle through.” </p><p>Lauren felt her hackles rise. “He took a double first in Classics at Cambridge, moron. That should be good enough.” When Harrington smiled at her defense, she felt her cheeks get warm. She forged ahead by laying out the timeline of what had happened so far. </p><p>Then she got to the day’s events and Striker’s gaze sharpened. “Where did you go when you blew off the meet-and-greet?” </p><p>“To a place no one knows about. Then we came back and you were here. Lucky us.”</p><p>“You’re not going to tell me where?” </p><p>She met glare with glare. “Doesn’t look like it, Striker.”</p><p>Marge leaned forward. “Jack, you know we don’t have to demand that.” She looked at him steadily until he backed down. </p><p>“I’m starting to wonder if this whole thing isn’t a publicity stunt.” </p><p>“You know that’s bullshit, Striker!” Callahan said abruptly, standing. “If this is all the FBI has to offer, stuff it and get out of here.” </p><p>Striker leapt to his feet as well and Lauren got right between them. “Stop it!” She shoved them apart. “What’s the matter with you two? This is about the job, not what you think of each other. Jesus! Are we in kindergarten? Sit the hell down and let’s get to work.”  </p><p>In the middle of the confrontation, Lauren’s phone rang played “Eye of the Tiger”. <br/>“Tigerman, how’s it going?” </p><p>“I don’t know what you did, but those kidnappers pulled up stakes and left.”</p><p>“The FBI showed up. Striker’s here.”</p><p>“Lucky you.” There was no love lost between Tigerman and Striker. </p><p>Lauren watched Striker’s frown get deeper. “Is he still alive? I was sure he’d be dead by now.”</p><p>“You two want to get kissy, kissy?” What she heard from her phone and Striker at the table made her laugh. “Thanks for the tip, Tigerman.” </p><p>“So that scumball’s still around? You hang out with some nice people, Lauren.” </p><p>“Tigerman’s never given me a bad tip.” </p><p>“So he’ll be at Christmas dinner this year?” </p><p>“No, I may be at his, instead. He has a wife and two children now, both girls. You should see him with them. It’s beyond adorable. He’s South Pacific Islander,” she explained to Marge, “and about 6’8”. They have him completely wrapped around their small fingers.” </p><p>“I’d like to meet him, sometime,” Marge said. </p><p>Lauren smiled. “I hope you get the chance.”</p><p>“Why is there blood on your shirt?” Striker asked suddenly.</p><p>Looking down, Lauren saw a bright spot of blood on her white tank. “I had a slight training accident the other day and it must have broken open when I shoved you two idiots apart.” She stood. “I’ll go slap a bandaid on this and I’ll be right back.”</p><p>**</p><p>Harrington watched Lauren as she left. What had just happened? Was she all right? </p><p>“Did you know anything about this?” Striker asked. </p><p>“No,” he answered. “But she’s not required to report a minor accident to me.”</p><p>“Did you ever read the police report of what happened that night, Striker?” Callahan asked.</p><p>“It all happened while I was out of the country, but I’m sure that she rushed into a situation and Sam died trying to save her. That’s just like her.”  </p><p>“You moron,” Callahan snapped. “I’m going to get it right now. Not sure how they do things in the FBI, but you used to be a detective. Why don’t you look at the facts for a change?”</p><p> When the older man stormed off, Striker turned to his partner. “He was always soft on her. It’s part of why she got away with so much. Sam used to call her the Debutant Detective.” </p><p>“That he did,” Lauren agreed as she walked in. “He used to call me Deb when he was teasing me.” </p><p>Harrington saw that she was pale and tired. It had been a harrowing day for her. He’d seen how hard it was for her to tell him about Sam and her injuries, and now she was being harassed on top of it. “I’m calling this meeting off today,” he announced. We’ll meet tomorrow morning at ten.” Everyone was surprised, but no one disputed it. As they left, he said, “Lauren, may I speak to you for a moment?” </p><p>She flinched, but faced him steadily. “Of course.” </p><p>“What happened here? How did you get hurt?”</p><p>“Just like I said, I pushed too hard yesterday when I was working out. My skin’s a bit thin in a couple places and I popped a leak. I had a bandaid on it, no big deal. If I hadn’t had to muscle those two apart, that would have been it.” </p><p>He was trying to think of what to ask, when she added, “If you don’t think I’m up to the job I’ll give a list of names of some very competent people and I’ll be gone in an hour.” </p><p>“Lauren, wait.” He caught her arm when she started to turn away. “I just saw you raked over the coals by Striker. I don’t like seeing you hurt. Has he always been that way?”</p><p>Lauren laughed, and he saw her relax. “If you think that was bad, you’ve never met my mother, whose nickname is Lady McBeth. But yes, Striker made his mind up about me from the moment we met. He decided I was just a spoiled, thrill-seeking rich girl out for some fun. And when Sam became my partner as Striker left for the FBI, it got worse.” </p><p>“I don’t see it. Let’s go into the study and have some tea. Little sandwiches, biscuits, tiny cakes…”</p><p>Lauren laughed. “Stop. You had me at sandwiches. We didn’t eat lunch today.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>Posting on their behalf. </p><p>Original Character based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Thomas Harrington, you are a dead man walking, you just don’t know it yet. You’re worse than all the others! You just want beauty—what about the rest of us? I hate you, hate you, hate you! </p><p>Retribution is here.</p><p>Avenging Angel” </p><p> </p><p>Sorry babe, I didn’t know…he’d go this…  Lauren woke, gasping for air. It was the old dream where Sam had died, but this time Sam was talking to her. She’d never heard him say anything in her previous memories. Where had it come from? Was she making this up somehow? </p><p>Sweating and shaking, she wiped herself down with a corner of the sheet, then focused on getting her breathing under control. There was no way she was going back to sleep for a long time, she never did after one of theses dreams, so she wandered downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of milk. On her way, she found the small pile of papers she’d left earlier. With the milk in her hand, she started to read. It was a missing person’s report from 6 years ago. A young, handsome actor had disappeared with no warning. His girlfriend had said in the report that he’d been in contact with a fan, a slightly older woman. </p><p>Lauren felt a chill run down her spine. It meant that her subconscious mind was picking up on something. Going into the morning room, she booted her computer and looked for any information about the missing man. His name was Barton Black.  He was tall and slim and British. Since his career was just starting, there wasn’t a lot of info about him. The police believed that he’d gone on a camping trip by himself and died in an accident. And looking at it as a solitary incident, that was the logical answer. She noted the name of his girlfriend at the time, Susan Bright, and a quick check said that she still lived in LA. Lauren noted the phone number. And dived back into her searches. </p><p>She got sleepy just when she was making headway, so she got up and approached the latte machine. She could swear it was glaring at her. She’d written down every step Marge had taken when she made the coffee, so the first thing she did was turn it on. When it growled at her and wheezed, she turned it off and went to scrape the bottom of the regular coffee left in the pot. Adding some extra water, creamer and sugar, she choked some of it down before she expanded her search parameters. The results were disturbing. So was the coffee. </p><p>**</p><p> Harrington woke early and went through his morning routine, but he didn’t hear Lauren, which was unusual. He saw her door wide open, so he thought he’d find her in the workout room down the hall. She wasn’t there either. He finally found her downstairs in the morning room, sound asleep with her head on the table. Beside her was the most revolting cup of black tarry substance he’d ever seen. The burned smell wafted to him from the doorway. He picked it up gingerly and carried it to the kitchen. For a moment he considered throwing the mug away, but finally put it in the sink. </p><p>He made two cups of latte and took one to Lauren. The first sniff had her nose twitching, then she opened sleepy green eyes and smiled at him. “Coffee? You are a god! Wait, this is latte? The machine lets you use it? How?”</p><p>“I turned it on,” he answered, sitting across from her. “What happens when you turn it on?”</p><p>“It growls at me. Marge said I couldn’t show fear because it only encourages it to act up. It acted up anyway.” </p><p>This was the bravest woman he knew and she was afraid of a coffee machine. “I see. Well, drink up while I order our breakfast. Eggs and bacon okay with you?” We have a meeting in about an hour.” </p><p>Her eyes flew open. “Good god!” She chugged her latte and took off upstairs. </p><p>Laughing, he went to find his housekeeper. Lauren was a delight. </p><p>Forty-five minutes later, she walked into the kitchen, dressed in slim black pants and a tailored white shirt. Her hair was pulled back and she was completely professional. There was another latte waiting for her. She grabbed it and sniffed. This one had chocolate in it. “Why do you do this to me? I’m gonna weigh 600 pounds when I leave.”</p><p>“Sure you are.” No sympathy from him. “I’ll bet your doctor is always telling you to eat more.” Her brief, guilty look told him he was right. </p><p>Frank Callahan had just walked in when they heard a car pulling up outside. “That’s probably them,” he said, and sat down after grabbing his own coffee. </p><p>Instead, a tall blond woman walked in the door. She was dressed in a conservative grey suit. “Hello Tom, I barely made it in time. Sorry. There was a backup on Ventura.” </p><p>Harrington nodded. “Everyone, this is Ellen Taylor, my lawyer.” </p><p>He watched Lauren smile and hold out her hand. “I’ve heard of you. You handled the Dawson case. Great job.” </p><p>“And I’ve heard of you. You brought Jamison down, didn’t you?” She set her briefcase on the table and sat. “The other party’s a bit late, I see.”</p><p>Even as she spoke,  Marge and Striker walked in. Striker looked like a thundercloud and Marge was stone faced. </p><p>“Good morning?” Lauren said to Marge, who smiled briefly. </p><p>When she saw the latte in Lauren’s hand, Marge smiled. “So you conquered the latte machine?”</p><p>Lauren’s face fell. “No. It growled at me. Mr. Harrington made it.”</p><p>“I see we need another lesson,” Marge said. </p><p>“Do you mind if we quit messing around?” Striker snarled. “I’m here about a potential kidnapping, not for a coffee klatsch. Anyway, I think the danger is over.” </p><p>“Before we start, I’d like to introduce my lawyer, Ellen Taylor. She’s here at my request. I will tolerate no more behavior like what I witnessed yesterday. No one in my employ or my house will ever be treated like that again.” His deep voice made an impression on almost everyone. He meant business. </p><p>Except for Jackson Striker. “We’ve wasted enough time already. What are your plans for tomorrow and the event?” </p><p>“No way, Striker,” Lauren said calmly. Harrington’s entire team had their game faces on. “You no longer believe there’s a reason for your presence, so you’re not in on our plans.”</p><p>His mouth literally fell open. “What did you say?”</p><p>“You heard me, Agent Striker. I’ll work with Marge instead.”</p><p>“You bitch!” he yelled. “You don’t get to tell me to leave!” Harrington watched Striker’s eyes almost bulge out of his head as he jumped to his feet. What was wrong with this man? </p><p>“Maybe not, but I do,” Harrington’s cold calm voice broke in. “And I’m here with my attorney as a witness to your behavior.” </p><p>“Yes, I am.” Ellen Taylor wasn’t shaken, but she sounded surprised. “In all my years as an attorney, I’ve never witnessed behavior like this from an Agent.”</p><p>Immediately, Striker’s phone rang. “What?” he growled, then his tone changed. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t know it was you. I’m to fly back to DC today? My plane leaves in two hours? Yes, sir, I’ll make it.” He turned to Marge. “I’ve been called back to DC, you’ll have to find your own way to the hotel, Marge.” </p><p>“Not a problem,” Callahan said with a smile. “I’ll get you back, Margie.”</p><p>Harrington escorted Striker to the door. “I’m not leaving without warning you one last time,” Striker said. “That bodyguard of yours gets people killed.” He was surprised when he saw Lauren right behind Harrington. “Here to make sure that I don’t take a swing at him before I leave?” </p><p>Lauren got up in Striker’s face. “That’s right.” </p><p>“You’d try to take down an FBI agent?” Striker sounded surprised. </p><p>Harrington watched her body posture change slightly. “You want to find out?” </p><p>“Sam always said you more guts than brains. Too bad we don’t have time to see this through. Some other time, maybe.” </p><p>When the door shut behind Stryker, Harrington put his hand on her arm, surprised to find her muscles rock hard. “Lauren,” he said softly. She really had been ready to take that big man on. “This isn’t called for.”</p><p>“You hired me to keep you safe,” she retorted, but her expression softened, “that’s my job. That man is unbalanced and you could have been in danger. He doesn’t get to hurt you.” </p><p>Tom Harrington felt his heart melt. He felt the same way about her. She had been hurt enough by life and he wouldn’t see her hurt again. If it hadn’t been for their vow to wait until the awards ceremony was over, he would have pulled her up in his arms and kissed her until her knees went weak. In the end, reason prevailed and he stepped away.</p><p>**</p><p>Lauren drew in a quiet breath of relief. I’d Tom had kissed her, she wouldn’t have been able to pull away. It was important for both of them to wait until her job was over before they followed through on their mad attraction for each other. </p><p>Returning to the meeting, she avoided looking at anyone before launching into the plans. After that thoroughly discussing them and changing a few specifics, all of them were confident that they’d covered most of the bases and the meeting was over. </p><p>“Are you and Callahan here for the afternoon, right, Tom? I’m going to interview someone today.” Both men nodded. </p><p>“Do you mind if I come along?” Marge asked. </p><p>“If you want to, sure.”</p><p>“I’d like to ask you some questions,” Marge added. </p><p>When Ellen left for her office, Lauren grabbed her purse and headed out the door with Marge in tow. </p><p>“Nice Carrera. I haven’t ridden in one before. Where are we off to?”</p><p>“I’m going to interview a woman who lost her boyfriend five years ago. It just hit me that I ought to talk to her.”</p><p>“Back of the neck, right?”</p><p>Lauren flicked her a look. “You, too, huh?”</p><p>“Not often, but I pay attention when it does.” She looked around. “It’s really beautiful here. Especially after DC.”  </p><p>“If you don’t mind the outrageous prices for everything, earthquakes, forest fires, and the odd attack by killer bees. But it is beautiful. So, what did you want to know?”</p><p>“I want to ask you about Jack.”</p><p>Lauren shrugged. “I can’t tell you much. As you see, he doesn’t like me.”</p><p>“But he was your fiancé’s partner. He must have said something about him. I’ve never seen Jack act like that.” <br/>“Yeah, it must be something special about me.” After all the years of not thinking about Sam, Lauren was almost overwhelmed by the memories. “They were partners for four years and sometimes they really argued. I think once they actually had a fistfight. Sam came in with a black eye, but refused to say anything about it. It was just before Jack left to join the FBI, and the day I was assigned as his partner. I’d been on the team for a few months by then.”</p><p>“How did your partnership with Sam work?” </p><p>“Getting a little personal, Margie.”</p><p>“I promise that I have a good reason for these questions. Will you trust me?” the other woman answered. </p><p>“It was rough at first. He didn’t think that I had anything productive to say about anything. He used to call me The Debutant Detective. It made me nuts. I finally got pissed and got in his face. We had a huge argument when I told him that he was wrong about a source. He finally grabbed me and I put him on the floor. I remember that he looked so surprised that I started to laugh, then he laughed, too. Things were different after that. Then we fell in love and the rest happened.” Lauren fought off the sense of loss that she felt. </p><p>“What did Sam say about Jack?”</p><p>“He said that sometimes he thought that Jack had a screw loose. Sam was tough, but Jack skirted the line to straight abuse, unless Sam pulled him back from the edge. Why do you need to know all this?”</p><p>“I reported Jack to our higher-ups. They didn’t believe me, so I called them at the beginning of our meeting and they heard enough to recall him to DC.”</p><p>“Wow.” Lauren was stunned. Turning her partner in was going to make her life in the Bureau difficult, to say the least. It was always supposed to be a secret, but everyone knew when it happened. “What are you going to do?” </p><p>Before Marge answered, they were pulling into a decent apartment building. The parking lot was freshly paved and all the parking spaces were clearly marked. Lauren pulled into the visitors space. She saw a young woman looking from a second story, who waved them in. She was pretty, with bright red curls and freckles, but there was sadness in her blue eyes. Lauren recognized the signs of lost love. She held out her hand. “Lauren Howard.”</p><p> The girl shook her hand. Then her expression altered. “Wait, aren’t you Tom Harrington’s new girlfriend?” </p><p>Lauren had to think fast. She couldn’t hide behind an a piece of paper. To her surprise, Marge stepped in. “Hello, I’m agent Margaret Hardy from the FBI. Ms. Howard is helping me with an inquiry into missing persons.”</p><p>The young woman was so Impressed to meet a real FBI agent that she simply asked them to sit down.  Marge, who had read the missing persons report on the drive over, said, “How long did you know Barton Black?” </p><p>“Three years. We were going to get married the year after he…disappeared.” </p><p>“What can you tell us about him?” Marge asked gently. </p><p>“He was wonderful, just like the British actors you see in movies. He was handsome, polite, and I…loved him.” </p><p>Lauren was happy to let Marge take the lead. A quick flick of the eye told her that this was a nice place without being luxurious.”</p><p> “You said that he was just starting his career?” Marge asked. </p><p>“Yes. I met him at the studio, when he was first trying out for roles. We hit if off and started dating.”</p><p>“Did you notice anything unusual in his life before he disappeared?”</p><p>“He met this woman, several years older than he was. He jokingly called her his first fan, but as time went on he started to get uncomfortable. She kept asking personal questions, things that he thought were intrusive, and he was looking for a nice way to end things. Then I came home from work and he’d left me a note saying that he was going camping for a couple days to think things over. I never saw him again. The thing is that he hated camping and the great outdoors. He was from London and thought outdoors was unnatural. I told the police, but they thought he’d just left me. It’s not fair!” </p><p>“I understand how you feel,” Marge assured her. “Can you think of anything else about this woman?”</p><p>“What was it that Barton said about her? She worked in the computer industry, R&amp;D? Something else…I just can’t think of it right now, but if I do, I’ll be glad to call you.” </p><p>“Thank you for your time, I’ll be back in touch in a few days.” Marge stood and shook hands again. </p><p>Outside, she turned to Lauren. “It’s really thin. I can’t tell if it’s relevant or not.” </p><p>“I know,” Lauren answered glumly. “But I didn’t really expect her to have all the answers waiting for us. Back to the house. Why don’t you have dinner with us at the house? You’re kind of on your own tonight.” </p><p>“Are you sure Mr. Harrington won’t mind?” </p><p>“I’ll text him right now.” In a few moments, Lauren had her answer. “He’d be delighted.” </p><p>“So will I.” </p><p>They drive off into the California sunshine. And the California traffic.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt.</p><p>Posting on her behalf. </p><p>Original character based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Marge and Lauren arrived back at Harrington’s house, they said hello to Frank, before disappearing into the morning room to set up Marge’s computer so that both of them could run searches simultaneously. Both of them felt the pressure caused by Harrington’s appearance at the ceremony the next night. Even Lauren wasn’t sure there was any danger now, but she wouldn’t assume that he was safe, either. </p><p>When Callahan wandered in to find out what they were doing, he was conscripted as well. He even remembered the case vaguely and called some of his friends still on the force to get more info. </p><p>Marge had gone into the NCIS to look for missing persons with similar MO’s, while Lauren did local searches of the news media. Lauren had found the original articles from Barton Black’s disappearance. It had been big news for about a week, before it’s inevitable decline and descent to the back pages and then oblivion. The overall conclusion had been that he had simply taken off for parts unknown. His family in England had said that it was not something he would do and they also said that he would never go camping. US Immigration said that Black had never left the country. Lauren saved all the info to her computer and printed it out. </p><p>As the hours went by the piles grew to five, carefully keeping each aspect of the case separate. Computers were wonderful, but sometimes paper that you could write notes on and pass around was best. By late afternoon, they were all cross-eyed from the research, and stopped for a break. “We’ve got to rest our eyes for a while,” Lauren stated, pushing her chair back and running her hands through her hair. So far they hadn’t found anything definitive, except for the frustration of thinking there was something they were missing. </p><p>She felt so much sympathy for Susan Hardy and Barton Black’s family. It would be awful not to know what had happened. At least in her own case she knew that Sam was gone, even if she couldn’t remember it. Lauren dived back into the pile of paper, even more determined to find some answers for these people. Finding anything concrete was like chasing a will-o’-the-wisp, just as elusive. They were on a time crunch, here. After tomorrow was over, she was determined to keep working on this until she had answers. </p><p>Harrington had been buried in his study for the same time. He came out rubbing his hands over his face. “What’s going on?” he asked. </p><p>“Just the fun of trying to run something down that we think is there, and now we have to go through all this,” Callahan answered. “We need some coffee.” </p><p>“What do you think is there?” Harrington walked into the room and looked at the stacks of paper on the table. </p><p>“A missing person case from a few years ago,” Lauren answered. She pulled out a handful of colored highlighters and put them on table. “For after we come back to life.” </p><p>“I’m starving,” Margie said. “Did we eat lunch?”</p><p>“I had a donut for breakfast,” Callahan said. “Not sure what happened after that.” </p><p>“You had a donut?” Lauren whined. “Is there one left?” </p><p>“No,” Callahan retorted. “And don’t expect me to feel sorry, either. I saw the breakfast you had.” </p><p>Shaking his head, Harrington came out of the pantry with a Krispy Kreme box in his hands. Giving him a delighted kiss, Lauren spun the box out of his hands and carried it triumphantly to the table. Wondering what the fuss was all about, Harrington followed her. When the top came off, he peered into the box and saw donuts of all colors tucked neatly next to one another. “I’ve never had one of these, which should I try?” he asked. </p><p>Picking out the plainest looking one in the box, Lauren handed it to him. “Try this.”</p><p>She watched the surprised look on his face when bit into it and was overwhelmed with the rush of sugar, fat, and wonderful taste that hit his tongue. “This is incredible! I always thought that these things had to be heavy. This melts in my mouth.” </p><p>“Now you know the secret of Krispy Kreme,” Lauren answered. “They’re even better when you get them hot from the oven.” She grabbed a cream-filled and bit into it. “I love these. The way the cream squirts into your mouth when you bite it.” </p><p>The cessation of all conversation at the table made her realize what she’d just said. “I did not just say that,” she put her head down for a moment and braced for when the laughter came. And there it was. But it was also relaxing to let off some steam and everyone settled back into their chairs. </p><p>“Maybe I should get some more of those,” Harrington said. </p><p>Lauren gave him a dirty look, but her eyes were laughing. </p><p>Margie made some lattes that went so well with the treats. “And now we should be sugared up for the rest of the night. Who needs protein when we have this?”  </p><p>“Sugar, fat, and caffeine,” Callahan sighed happily. “Cop food.”</p><p>“This coffee is way too good for cop coffee,” Margie said, defending her skills with the dreaded latte machine.</p><p>“What’s the significance of the case?” Harrington asked. </p><p>“A young actor went missing four years ago. His girlfriend said that he had a fan, a slightly older woman, who was becoming intrusive and he planned to break it off with her. When the girlfriend came home, she found a note that said that he was going camping to think things over. He never came back. Over the years, she’d forgotten some of the story, but she promised to call me if she remembered anything else.  But everyone who knew Barton, including his family, said that he would never go camping. He hated the outdoors. He was English, by the way.”</p><p>Harrington brows snapped together as he considered what Lauren had said. “And you think this has some relevance to what’s going on here?”</p><p>“I’m not sure, but it’s a possibility. What do you think, guys?” </p><p>“I do think that the missing persons issue wasn’t investigated thoroughly. His family in England hasn’t seen or heard from him either. But Lauren has one of the best noses for trouble that I’ve ever known. Did I tell you that she saved my life onetime?”</p><p>“Dear god, Frank, will you let that go? All I did was grab your arm when you started to go into the hall!” </p><p>“And into a hail of bullets,” Callahan answered. “Call it what you want, Lauren, you saved my life that day.”</p><p>Deciding to ignore him, Lauren looked at Margie. “What do you think, Margie? You work with profilers at the FBI.”</p><p>“I feel like there’s something here, but I can’t put my finger on it.” She shook her head. “We’ve got a lot to go through tonight. Let’s all take the areas we didn’t work on and see what turns up. It’ll take hours, so we’d better start looking.”</p><p>“Can I help?” Harrington asked. For a second they looked at him like he’d grown an extra head.  </p><p>“Aren’t you tired?” Lauren asked. “You’ve been researching all day.” </p><p>“So have you,” he shot back. “It’ll be a switch from what I’ve been doing all day.”</p><p>“And that is?” </p><p>“Researching the life of a rural veterinarian in  England.”</p><p>Lauren blinked. “I guess this would be different.”</p><p>“Except for shoveling through piles of manure,” Callahan said and they all laughed. </p><p>“You’re in. Meet you back there in fifteen minutes.” Lauren ran upstairs to take a quick shower. By the time she’d brushed her long hair she was muttering curses and promising for the thousandth time that she would cut it short. Twisting it up still wet and skewering in hairpins, she dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. At the top of the curving staircase, she contemplated the bannister. It was so tempting! </p><p>“No.” Harrington said from behind her, startling her into losing her balance. He grabbed her with a steadying hand. “Careful.” When he pulled her to him, she drew in a breath and leaned in briefly before pulling away. </p><p>“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t surprised me. I might just slide down that bannister before I go. Turning, Lauren ran down the stairs, eager to get back to work. </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington watched her, shaken by her words. Did she really mean to go out of his door and out of his life forever when this was over? This was an unusual twist, since he was the one who generally wanted out before things got too serious. For now he’d have to wait and see. </p><p>Downstairs, when he walked into the room, everyone was intent on their work. He was forcibly reminded of a pack of bloodhounds, casting for a scent to follow. He sat down and pulled his pile of papers to him, starting to read through them. The amount and depth of their research was amazing. His stack was reports of missing persons, men only. It was appalling how many people just disappeared in this modern world. Where did they go and what happened to them? When he read the reports, it seemed that some were deliberate attempts get away from difficult situations or to escape crimes they’d committed. He put those in a separate pile and concentrated on those who went somewhere and never returned. </p><p>Barton Black’s disappearance was there and he studied it carefully, along with the biographical pages about his life .  He actually felt the tingle of wrongness when he read about the mystery fan. He remembered being that young actor just starting out, feeling frustrated and hopeful by turns. It would have been quite compelling to have someone tell him he was special, offering support and help. But then when it was beginning to dawn on Black that this was going to a dark place, he wanted out. He was too nice to ghost the person, so he set up a meeting, and that was the last anyone saw him. Except for the mystery fan. If it weren’t real, it would make a good mystery novel or movie. As it was he felt sad for every one who knew and cared about Barton Black. “I just the report about Barton Black,” he said, “and I think you’re right. There’s definitely something hinky about the situation. Have you found anything else in what you’ve been through?”</p><p>“A bit,” Margie said, “but we’re out of time to do this justice.”</p><p>Lauren squinted at her phone. “Two AM, dammit.”</p><p>“And you’ve been running flat out for days,” Harrington added. “We need to call it a night.” </p><p>“Yes, you need your beauty sleep,” Lauren quipped. </p><p>“So do you. Don’t you remember you’re my date?”</p><p>She made a face at him. “I’m your bodyguard, hot stuff. But I do need to look like a date.” </p><p>“What are you wearing?” Margie asked. </p><p>“I have a storage unit my mother couldn’t find. There’s a dress there. You want to come with me in the morning?” </p><p>“Love to.” Marge yawned and stood. “Guess I’d better get back to the hotel.”</p><p>“Why don’t you stay here?” Harrington suggested. “Unless there’s anything at the hotel you have to have? There’s plenty of room here.” </p><p>“Really?” Marge looked pleased. “Nothing I need there.”<br/>“Pick your bedroom.” Harrington said. “Guess I’ll get some sleep.” He found it fascinating how quickly they had coalesced into a team. He’d picked up a lot of information he’d use if he was in another movie or show about police work. They really did see the world differently. They had to.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got a sleep shirt you can use,” Lauren added, as the two women walked upstairs. </p><p>“I haven’t had a sleepover since high school,” Margie added. “I know this is as a real situation but I haven’t had this much fun in years. Washington is boring!” </p><p>Callahan watched them, bemused. “As long as I live I will never understand women.”</p><p>Lauren was standing and looking out the window when Harrington walked by. Her damp hair was curling around her shoulders. He stopped in the doorway. “What are you seeing out there?” </p><p>“Barton Black’s family. Those poor people deserve answers and I’m going to find some for them. As soon as this is over I’m taking it on.”</p><p>He felt surprisingly bereft at the thought that she wouldn’t be here after tomorrow night. “Lauren, are you, we…?” </p><p>She walked over to him, smiled and put her arms around him. “If that means will there be an us after tomorrow? We’ll just take it day by day. No hurried commitments at first. That’s usually fatal.” His arms tightened in spite of himself at the thought of losing her. </p><p>“I feel it, too,” she said, kissing him lightly. It was supposed to be lightly, but their lips met and got stuck together so tightly that they had to tear themselves apart. Her fingers touched her lips while she smiled mistily at him. </p><p>“Tomorrow night, darling,” he promised. “I don’t care whether I win an award or not. I’ve got this to anticipate.” He left before he could change his mind.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by  Carrie Hunt </p><p>Posting on her behalf. </p><p>Original character based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Looking longingly at the door when Harrington closed it, Lauren sighed and headed for her bed. With her body revved, she thought that now sleep would be even farther away from her. But she was wrong, she fell asleep immediately. </p><p>Then the dreaming started. She was back again to the night Sam died, reliving the pain and horror, throwing herself to cover him, being shot. This dream had an extra horror for her. When she looked down at Sam, it was Tom Harrington lying beneath her! Waking with a gasp that wasn’t quite a scream, she jumped out of bed, still trying to wake up, and realizing that it wasn’t real. There was no way that it was going to happen again, she swore. Never! </p><p>Looking at her phone, she saw that it was five AM. Should she try to go back to sleep? Deciding to try it, she stretched out again, using an old trick of doing long division in her head. It was amazing how quickly she bored herself to sleep sometimes. This time it worked. When she woke again it was 7 AM and she got up. It was going to be a long day, but at the end of it would be paradise in Tom’s arms. There was still the issue of her scars, but she was determined to face the issue up front. If Tom couldn’t handle it, it was time to find out. </p><p>She headed downstairs to hunt up a bit of breakfast before she started on the list of things she had to do. Margie was working her magic and made her a latte. “I’ve got to run some errands this morning. Want to come?” </p><p>“Sure!” Margie’s face lit up. “This whole thing is like being in a movie. I know it’s serious, but it’s cool to be on the inside, too. Who knows? Somebody might need shooting.” Laughing, they grabbed purses and phone and headed for the door. “Where are we going?” Marge asked. </p><p>“I had one storage unit my mother never found. The dress I’m going to wear tonight is in there.” </p><p>“How long have you had it?”</p><p>“Since my Grand died six years ago. She made it for me. She was Irish and had a bit of the Sight. She told me that I’d need it one day and I had to promise I’d keep until then.”</p><p>“You’re going to an awards ceremony in a dress your grandmother made?” Margie was incredulous. </p><p>“You didn’t know her. She could have been a couturier.” Lauren pulled into a McDonald’s. “I hope you don’t mind McD’s for breakfast.”</p><p>“I’m ready for anything.”</p><p>Entering the storage unit, Lauren saw Margie looking at the shelving with interesting items, a couple Oriental rugs and an Aubusson rug, along with several large white boxes.  </p><p>Lauren had pulled out a couple the large white boxes. The first had a note on it that said “Do not open until 2022.” The next box was the one she opened. </p><p>Margie leaned over for a look. There was the rustling of white tissue paper, and then a golden dress appeared. It was stunning! “Your Grandmother made this?” </p><p>“I told you she could have been a couturier. Look, she even has shoes in here. I’m going to wear her diamond earrings tonight.” </p><p>“Good thing this is LA so you don’t have to worry about a wrap.”</p><p>Gathering the box, they headed back to the house.  </p><p>In her bedroom, Lauren carefully hung the dress to freshen, though it was as pristine as the day it was finished. It brought the memory of her beloved Grand, her smiling, sweet face as fresh in her mind as if no time had passed since they last saw each other. When a soft breeze came through the open window, it felt like a caress. Blinking tears away, Lauren headed back downstairs.</p><p>**</p><p>The rest of the day passed quickly, a last-minute meeting with Margie and Callahan, and then it was time to start getting ready for the big night. After the shower and hair washing and drying, Lauren was already tired. She rested for a few minutes, then got back to work.</p><p>Margie knocked lightly on her door. “Need any help in there?”</p><p>“Yes! Please come in. I’ve still got to do my hair and makeup. And I’ll need help getting into the dress.” </p><p>Margie walked through the door. “I’m your woman. This reminds me of helping my big sister get ready for prom.”</p><p>“Thanks. What are you going to do once we leave?” </p><p>“Frank and I are going to watch it on the big tv here.” </p><p>“Frank, huh?” Lauren teased. “This is so sudden.”</p><p>“You do know that Harrington is several years older than you, right?” Margie retorted.  “We’re going to make popcorn.” </p><p>“You’ll have a better time than I will,” Lauren groused, “but it’s part of the job.”</p><p>“Yes, poor you. Spending an evening with one of the hottest guys on the planet. Break my heart.” </p><p>“In front of untold millions of people all watching me to see if I mess up. But I’ve stared down the barrel of a gun more than once, so I can do this, too.”</p><p>“And let’s get this show started.” They started trying hairstyles to see which was best.</p><p>**</p><p>Harrington had spent the day being groomed until he felt like a pet poodle. Finally dressed and ready, he waited for Lauren. She hadn’t wanted professional help at all. He had no idea what to expect. Then he looked at the top of the stairs and his heart skipped. She floated down the stairs, her golden dress flowing around her. It had golden and bronze beads that glittered under the chandelier.  Her hair was loosely braided and hanging over her right shoulder. Her makeup was subdued, but gave a subtle shimmer that would show up beautifully in photos. He saw the twinkle of the diamond earrings from the photo shoot. She was a vision he would never forget. Oh, she doth teach the torches to burn bright. You could always depend on Shakespeare for the right words. </p><p>When she reached him, she blinked her amazing green eyes. “Will I do?” </p><p>“You’re stunning,” he answered simply. It was hard not to take her into his arms and show her how he felt, but that was for later. “Beyond lovely,” he growled.  </p><p>Her smile was a promise. “Is it time to go?” </p><p>In the limo, he was careful to stay on his side. He couldn’t trust himself to get close. “Tell me are you armed?”</p><p>She laughed. “Oh, yes. You can look for them later.”</p><p>“We need to talk about the weather,” he said, desperate to quit thinking about searching Lauren for weapons. </p><p>“Who do you think has the best chance of winning best actor?” Lauren asked brightly. </p><p>“Well, that was deflating.” He looked out the window. “We’re almost there, darling.” </p><p>Lauren gathered herself. “When we get there, remember to take my left arm and put it through your right. If there are pics, they’ll look sappy, like you can’t let me go, but that’s the closest I can get to you for protection.”</p><p>“Then they’ll be true because I don’t want to let you go.”</p><p>She gave him a snarky look. “I have to keep my mind on everything going on here, Tom. Don’t distract me. And remember that if I yell “Drop” then you drop.” </p><p>The limo pulled up to the entrance and the door opened. Harrington got out and helped Lauren, putting her arm through his. There was cheering and some screaming as they appeared. Harrington flashed a huge smile and waved back. He gave his fans a minute or so to snap some pics. Lauren stood back a little until he took her arm and pulled her close. The crowd roared. Trying to interpret the noise, it seemed that some people were happy and others not. Oh well. </p><p>The  reaction on the red carpet was similar and different. Again, she stood back calmly while Tom had his picture taken, but she was surprised that they wanted pictures of her alone. Tom smiled as the flashes were turned toward her for a few moments, then of them together. Thankfully, that was over and they were escorted to their table, which was close to the front. </p><p>She sat through the ceremonies, knowing that best actor and actress would be last. She sat peacefully, not keeping a smile on her face all the time, because it would become a rictus if she tried. Tom chatted with the other actors at the table, applauding when a friend won. He looked so wonderful in his tuxedo, tuxes were made to be worn by tall, slender men. He was enjoying himself, too. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It would be so lovely if he won, he deserved it for his portrayal of a depressed vampire and his wife, who was the essence of joy and life. Lauren had loved the movie. </p><p>She was overjoyed when they called his name. He had won! Watching his graceful and charming acceptance speech, she realized how much it meant to her that she was here. </p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In the limo on the way home, Harrington watched her until she stirred restlessly and frowned. “What’s wrong?” </p><p>“Will you please stop looking at me like a cat watches a canary?”</p><p>He laughed. As always Lauren was a law unto herself. “Do I have yellow feathers on my whiskers? Am I leering?”</p><p>“Not leering, but looking like you’re deciding how good I’ll taste.” </p><p>“Okay,” he dialed his anticipation back. “Do you want to talk about the weather now?” He could see that his lady was a little nervous.</p><p>“Oh, do we have to talk?” </p><p>“No.” Releasing his seatbelt, he slid over the seat until he took her in his arms. “Isn’t this better?” </p><p>She relaxed against him and put her head on his shoulder. “Yes,” she sighed. “I don’t know why I’m being so stupid.” </p><p>“Do you trust me, darling?” </p><p>“Of course I do. So you take the lead, like you did in our photo shoot.”</p><p>He had been right. “With greatest pleasure, my darling.” </p><p>“But you should be wearing your seatbelt,” she added, and he laughed. She would always be a cop. His cop, he hoped. The hours of the night stretched in front of him like a dream.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>I'm posting this on her behalf. </p><p>Original Character based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In spite of her trust in Tom, Lauren ‘s heart started to beat faster when they walked through the door to his bedroom. It had been so long since she’d felt this way. </p><p> Accurately reading her expression, Tom laughed. “Lauren, you’re not facing a firing squad, so stop looking like I should offer you a blindfold.” </p><p>“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she confessed sadly. She was such a mess and he deserved so much more.</p><p>He put his arms around her. “Disappoint me? Not possible, darling. Maybe we should just have…” His arms tightened around her and he kissed her gently. For about a second, and then things heated up. “This time we don’t have to stop.”</p><p>“A little less talking and a lot more action?” Where did that come from? Her mind was spinning out of control as she felt him shake with laughter. Weren’t they supposed to be rolling around in the bed by now? When he stepped away with his hands on her shoulders, she looked up, worried, until she saw the look in his eyes.</p><p>“I want to look at you,” he murmured. “I promised myself this as soon as I saw you walking down the stairs. You are so unbelievably lovely, darling.” His long-fingered hands ran down her shoulders, pushing the thin straps of her dress down as they went. Leaning down, he kissed the place where her neck met her shoulders. </p><p>At the touch of his lips, Lauren knees collapsed. “Tom,” she gasped, when he caught her tightly to him to keep her from falling. </p><p>“A little busy, here,” he growled, removing an earring with his teeth. “Getting good at this.” </p><p>“I don’t think I can stand anymore,” she said when he took the other one out. </p><p>“And you a tough bodyguard. We’re just getting started. I expected more.” </p><p>“Not,” she gasped, “on duty.” It was a good thing he was strong enough to hold her up when he turned her around to work on the tiny buttons down the back of her dress. With his teeth. The gentle scrape of his teeth and the roughness of his beard against her sensitive skin finally made her collapse. “Tom!” </p><p>Her plea finally made him stop torturing her. “All right. Stand up so I can get this dress off.” In a moment it fell around her feet in a golden pool. She stepped delicately out of it, still in her glittering heels. She was wearing a couple scraps of ivory lace that barely passed for underwear. She balanced, holding his shoulder so that he could remove her shoes. The sigh of relief made him look up contritely. “You were hurting and I’m being a selfish beast.” Pulling her down and bed beside him, he took her foot and rubbed it gently. </p><p>“Hey,” Lauren had no intention of this night being about contrition, so she put enough snap in her voice to catch his attention. “Come here.” She held her arms out. “Right now I want a lot more than a foot massage. And would you mind taking off some of your clothes, too? It’s only fair.” Never had she seen anyone shinny out of clothes so quickly. She loved his rangy runner’s body and when he wrapped his arms around her, she sighed happily. “This is more like it.” </p><p>“You’re still wearing your underwear,” he commented.</p><p>“Take it off, tear it off,” she purred. “Whichever you please.” In moments it was gone. “I’m all yours, hot stuff.”</p><p>“So you are.” His big hands started caressing her. Those long sensitive fingers worked the magic she had always wondered about. </p><p>Putting her arms around him, she nibbled her way down his long neck, working some of her own magic. “Lauren,” he growled when she started kissing his chest. </p><p>“That’s a big engine you’ve got there,” she said, sighing when he entered her hot wetness.</p><p>“Too much?”  </p><p>“Perfect,” she answered. “Vroom, vroom baby.” Then neither of them wasted breath on words as their lovemaking crested and broke in a tidal wave of pleasure. Lauren concentrated on getting her breath back. It was a relief to see that he was breathing hard, too. </p><p>When they untangled, he kept his arms around her. “I don’t have to ask you if you enjoyed it.” </p><p>“It was terrible,” she answered solemnly and he pulled her hair and called her a liar. “Okay, it was…amazing, wonderful, life-altering, passionate…”</p><p>“Stop it.” He shook her. “How much of that do you mean?” </p><p>“All of it. Every single word.” Leaning over, she kissed him lingeringly and put her head on his chest. It was too early to say “I love you.” But she was in love with him. Whether it would deepen into the real thing was another story, but for now, she was completely happy for the first time in years. She realized that she hadn’t thought of Sam a single time, or of her scars. Then her stomach growled. Most unromantic! “I think I’m hungry.” </p><p>“Let’s find some food.” He pulled on some sweatpants that had seen better days, she pulled on his dress shirt, and they went to the kitchen to forage. Both of them were hungry, since no one ate at an awards ceremony. Or drank if they were smart.  </p><p>“Aha!” She grabbed a package of hot dogs. Rummaging through drawers, she grabbed a long fork and headed for the gas stove. “I wonder if there are buns?”</p><p>Tom returned with hot dog buns and she turned on the gas burner, holding the fork over the flames, she expertly toasted the dogs, sliding them onto the buns. “Do you use ketchup?” </p><p>Having watched the whole procedure with fascination, Tom said, “I have no idea.”</p><p>“Try one without first,” she held it out to him. </p><p>He bit into it and smiled. “This is really good! Where did you learn how to do this?” </p><p>“Deductive reasoning. Cops are used to eating fast, so we eat fast food.” </p><p>He ate his hotdog, with more speed than necessary, since the sight of her in his dress shirt was so sexy. Turning her around, he kissed her passionately. </p><p>“Tom,” she said against his lips, but couldn’t stop kissing him. They were both on fire in moments. In the hall, he pulled her Into the elevator and closed the door. “I…” there was no time for any more words as he lifted her onto his erection. Any semblance of control was lost after that. “Really?” she murmured in a throaty voice. </p><p>He laughed against her neck and set her on the elevator floor. “Are you all right?”</p><p>He had to hold her for a moment because her legs were unsteady. When he pressed the button she said, “We’re going up? Again?”</p><p>“Sorry?” he offered with an adorable smile.</p><p> God, he was handsome, even in old running pants and no shirt. “You are too good at being cute,” she warned, so he’d know she wasn’t a pushover. </p><p>**</p><p>He smiled down at her, entranced. God, she was beautiful, especially in his shirt. Looking up at him, her slightly tilted eyes were soft and green. Her silvery hair was scattered all around her and she rubbed her cheek against him in a sweet feline movement. She was always unexpected. This night was something he would never forget. How was he going to keep her in his life? </p><p>“I want some chocolate,” she stated. </p><p>“Come, my lady.” He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. “Your wish is my command.” He went to a shelf and came back with a golden box. “For you.”</p><p>“Tom,” she looked at him happily, “Godiva chocolates? How did you know? I adore you!” </p><p>She was busy brooding over which chocolate to pick first, when he decided how to lure her into his huge spa tub. Of course. Champagne! “Darling,” he coaxed, “there’s some Dom Perignon by the tub.” At her instant smile he decided that he would scatter small temptations before her like breadcrumbs. It had been working quite well so far. </p><p>The sun was up when he woke and he took the splendid opportunity to study her face. It was lovely indeed, but it wasn’t until she was awake and he could see her breathtaking green eyes that he saw the fire and determination that showed who she was. </p><p>As if she could feel his eyes on her, she stirred. “Mphm?” She opened sleepy eyes and looked at the world. It didn’t seem that wonderful because she closed them again. </p><p>“Darling, wakey wakey. Coffee?”</p><p>“Coffee?” she murmured, stretching. Suddenly, she sat right up in bed. “Good god!” </p><p>She stared at him and he smiled hopefully. “It’s morning, darling. Would you like breakfast in bed?” He called down for coffee and breakfast. “Would you like a shirt?” At her nod he tossed her one of his tees, which she slid on. </p><p>“I’ll be right back.” Collecting herself, her shoes and her dress, she exited the room as if pursued by a bear. He waited until the door closed before he laughed. No morning snuggles, it seemed, but it was only the beginning of the day. </p><p>Lauren returned, clad in a snug pink cami and worn jeans that she seemed to love. She handed him his shirt, neatly folded, and sat down across from him with a smile. “Hi.” Her cheeks were pink and she was trying hard to be cool. When breakfast came, they chatted while they ate. The strangeness wore off and they were at ease with each other. She fed him her last strip of bacon. </p><p>“What would you like to do today?” He asked. </p><p>“I’m not sure, do you have any plans?”</p><p>“I’d like to spend it with you.”</p><p>“Really?” She looked so happy that he fell for her even harder. She was adorable.</p><p>**</p><p>As the day went on, Lauren was more relaxed and even started to think that there might be something real here. Possibilities. He was so damn charming that she wondered how much he really liked her and how much was habitual charm. For now, though, she told herself not to worry and just be happy. It was a lovely day. Tom was in his study doing research for a couple hours. </p><p>Downstairs, she found Frank and Margie, seeming very cozy with each other. They sat around the kitchen table while Lauren went through her mail. She got the new issue of Bodyguard magazine, and read an article about new reflective camouflage that was very hard to see. When she read the specs on the gear, something clicked. It said that the most you could see until it was too late was a slight shimmer in the air. </p><p>Margie’s cell rang and she answered. “Yeah, right, what did you say? Thanks for calling. Lauren! Barton Black’s fan’s name was Guardian Angel!” </p><p>Hearing the front door open, Lauren ran full speed. “Tom drop,” she yelled and launched herself like a missile at nothing but a shimmer. Harrington dropped and an arm came out of nowhere, holding a blade. Lauren hit something and a shimmering cover hit the ground, revealing an older woman with a knife in each hand. Rolling and jumping up, she kicked one of the blades out of her opponent’s hand, and jumped into a kick that threw the other woman to the ground. She had been carrying extras because another blade appeared. Lauren subdued her, then Margie came out, gun drawn. </p><p>“Hands behind your back,” Margie snarled. Snapping on a pair of handcuffs before she stepped back. “Lauren?” </p><p>Lauren was still on the ground. “I think I fell on a rock,” she said. “My back hurts.”</p><p>Harrington ran over to her. “Darling, are you all right? Do you need a hand up?” </p><p>“Give me a second.” She panted a couple times. “Okay, let’s do it now.”</p><p>When he started to pull her up, her eyes were unfocused. “Tom? Are you all right?” </p><p>“Margie, call 911. Lauren’s been stabbed!”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>I'm posting this on her behalf. </p><p>Original Characters based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harrington dropped to his knees beside Lauren. She looked up at him. “You’re all right, but I got hurt again?”</p><p>“I’m fine, but you did get hurt, my darling.” He brushed her hair out of her eyes. In the distance, her heard the welcome wail of sirens. Lauren looked woozy as hell and she was shivering in the 82 degree weather. His jacket came off to cover her and he held her hand. </p><p>“Dammit,” she swore, “and we were going to have such a nice…day. Tom, are you all right? You’re…sure?” </p><p>“I’m sure,” he repeated, feeling frightened. If she couldn’t remember even that conversation, she was beginning to lose consciousness. </p><p>He heard people approaching. “Sir, you’re going to have to move so that we can help her.” EMTs were bending over her, taking her blood pressure. “Pressure’s falling,” the man said. “She’s going into shock.” </p><p>“Shit!” The woman said, then she looked at Harrington. “She was  conscious when you were talking to her. Would you try it again?” </p><p>Nodding, Harrington said, “Lauren! Can you hear me? Lauren?”</p><p> When he called her name again, Lauren’s eyes opened to slits. “Wha?”</p><p>“Her pressure’s going up,” The EMT said. “Keep talking.”</p><p>“Mine sure would be,” the woman said. Then she was all business. </p><p>“Lauren,” Harrington said, “I love you.”</p><p>Her eyes opened fully. “Craz. Lunatic…ow!” The IV had just gone in.</p><p>“Who ere loved who loved not at first sight?” </p><p>The EMTs got out the stretcher and lifted her onto it. “Shakespeare? Ambulance? Mergency Room?” </p><p>“Please come with us, sir.” </p><p>Harrington climbed the ambulance and kept talking. “He always says it best.”</p><p>The ambulance took off. “Tom? Tom?” </p><p>“I’m here.”</p><p> He watched her relax. “Kay.”</p><p>“Where do you to go on our honeymoon?”</p><p>“Loon. Serve you ri…if I held…you to it.” </p><p>Feeling the ambulance slowing, he realized that they must be close to the hospital. Thank god. Coming to a stop, the doors were opened. “Mr. Harrington, would you get out first?” He watched anxiously as she was taken into the ER. Not knowing what else to do, he walked inside. The woman EMT, Elsa, followed him in. “Mr. Harrington, I will always believe that you saved her life. Thank you.”</p><p>“Thank you, Elsa. Do you know where I should go?” There was a stir as people recognized him. </p><p>She gestured and he followed her to the nurses station. “Mr. Harrington just came in with Lauren Howard. Think he should be in the special waiting room.”</p><p>Seeing the stir in the room, the nurses said, “Yes, please follow me.” </p><p>Once inside and out of the way, Harrington felt completely useless. Now it was waiting time and trying not to think about how many things could go wrong, how badly she was hurt, would they have to operate?” He looked at his watch. It could be hours yet. He took out his cell and saw a bunch of texts. One was from Frank Callahan saying that he was going in with the prisoner, but after that he’d be at the hospital. Another from Margie saying that she was on her way to the hospital right now. And one from his lawyer asking what the hell was going on and why was he on the news. </p><p>Time seemed to stretch in waiting rooms, if it weren’t for the huge clock on the wall, Harrington would have believed it had stopped entirely. When the door opened he looked up eagerly and saw Margie walk in. “Have you heard anything?” she asked, sitting near him. He shook his head and she added, “It’s only been and hour, so don’t get too worried. Frank will be here soon, and we’ll be seeing the cops when they come off shift.”</p><p>“They’ll be here?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, she’s a quiet legend on the force, though she was only active for four or five years. One way and another she kept more than a few from getting hurt. Most of them would have lined up to be her partner. Frank certainly loves her, but she’s more like a daughter to him.” </p><p>As the hours crawled by, more people showed up than could fit in the room, so they were in the regular waiting room. Then the door opened and a huge Pacific Islander man covered with tattoos walked in. Harrington stood. “You must be Tigerman,” he said, holding out his hand. </p><p>“I am,” the big man rumbled as they shook hands. “And you’re Tom Harrington.”</p><p>“I am,” Harrington echoed, smiling </p><p>“Have you heard anything? I’ll be in the other waiting room, since some of this crowd don’t think much of me.” </p><p>Looking around, there were a few glares, Harrington realized. “Not a bad idea,” he agreed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Here’s my card if you want to call me.” </p><p>Then it was back to waiting. Harrington was entertained by stories about Lauren, some of which sounded a bit dubious. He had a hard time believing that she’d jumped off a third story building into a tree and dropped to the ground to catch a slaver who’d been set up in a sting. Was she really and truly that crazy? That brave? Yes, he decided, remembering her jump out of the door to keep him from being stabbed. They had moved so fast in their fight that he could barely see what was going on. Then Margie stepped in and secured the crazy woman. Then Lauren was on the ground. That image would be with him forever.</p><p>The door opened and a man in surgical scrubs walked in. “Mr Harrington, since you’re Lauren’s fiancée, she’s given me permission to talk with you. May we step outside?” </p><p>Harrington followed him anxiously. “Is she all right?” </p><p>“She came through the surgery very well and is in recovery right now. It’s important to keep her quiet for the next few days. She’s insisting that she see you ASAP. Will you come with me?” </p><p>Harrington looked back into the room to give a quick thumbs up. He heard the sighs of relief and clapping as he walked. He did the same as they walked by the regular waiting room.</p><p>Then it was following the doctor down endless corridors and and up elevators. Harrington was wondering whether he should have dropped breadcrumbs. He had no idea how he was supposed to find his way out of this place. </p><p>“She was stabbed in the right kidney and her aorta was nicked. Good thing you got her here fast.” </p><p>“Thank you,” Harrington said sincerely.</p><p>“We put her back together after the the shooting, and that was a chancy thing. This isn’t as bad, but she has to get into a business where she isn’t risking her life.”</p><p>Harrington looked down at him. “Do you have any suggestions?” he asked politely. </p><p>The other man sighed. “No, and god knows I’ve tried. I wish you more success. She’s just been moved to this room. Try not to upset her.” </p><p>“I promise.” When the other man left, Harrington walked into the room. Lauren was lying on her side, facing away from him. It was very quiet, aside from the slight hiss of oxygen and the heartbeat that came from the monitor. Rather than say anything, he quietly moved around the bed to see if she was asleep. She wasn’t. </p><p>“Tom?”She sounded woozy, which was not surprising.</p><p>“I’m here.” He pulled a chair up so they could face each other. “Hello, darling.” How could this woman still be beautiful after a fight and an operation? But she was. </p><p>She smiled at him mistily. “Drugs are nice. I feel like I’m floating and nothing hurts.”Then she must have realized in some way what she’d said. “In a hospital, and…administered by…medical personnel.” Her eyes drifted shut.</p><p>Harrington looked awa for a minute. She was so adorable when her cop came out. “You earned them, Lauren.”</p><p>“Maybe…” she sighed. “Just need to clear up my calling you my fiancé. Best way for you to be able to see…me.”</p><p>“I did propose to you,” he said tenderly. </p><p>He got a stern look. “Lunatic…serve you right if I did say yes.” </p><p>“So you’re not saying yes?” </p><p>“I’m saying not yet. I do love you quite madly. Gotta see if we can make this…work.”  She smiled when he took her free hand and kissed it, then she sighed and fell asleep. </p><p>Disentangling himself gently, Harrington smiled down at her. He wondered what he should do now. Should he stay the night or go home? </p><p>The door opened quietly and a small woman with a cap of shiny brown hair came in. “Hi, I’m Dana. I’m Lauren’s nurse. How are you holding up?” </p><p>“I’m not sure. How can you be so tired from doing nothing?” He ran his hands through his hair. </p><p>“You need to go home and get some rest. You can come back in the morning. Frank’s already called your driver and he’ll be there waiting for you. Everything will be fine tomorrow, you’ll see.”</p><p>To his bemusement, Harrington found himself swept out the door and down the hall, to be turned over to an orderly and escorted to his car, which was at an inconspicuous side exit. Thinking of the awards ceremony, his night with Lauren, and then today, it had been a busy couple days. When he got home, he had to walk by the place where Lauren had fallen after taking down his attacker. He could still see her lying there, not yet realizing how badly she’d been hurt. </p><p>He felt lost inside the house—it felt so empty without her in it. He ate a small meal and wandered upstairs to his room. It had been freshly cleaned and Lauren’s things must have been moved to her room. Even so, the images of their night together were burned into his brain. At least she was safe and going to be well. What did you give people who were in hospitals? Flowers, candy, and magazines. He had a job to do tomorrow and he felt better just thinking of it. Climbing into his lonely bed, he fell sleep immediately.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>Posted in her behalf. </p><p>Original character based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lauren woke to the unwelcome sound of a heart monitor and the muffled sounds of a hospital. Dammit, it must have really happened! She had hoped it was some bad dream that would fade away in the daylight, but no. </p><p>Nothing really hurt until she tried to move. Then it hurt like being stabbed in the back. Oh, that’s right—she had been stabbed in the back. Then it got hazy. Tom was talking to her, saying crazy things. Had he actually asked her to marry him? What had she said? Had he come to see her last night after her surgery? </p><p>God, she felt like crap and she wanted some coffee. She found the call button and pressed it. In a moment Dana walked in with a big mug of coffee. “It’s not the good stuff, but this is the best I could do.”</p><p>“Dana, we’re you here last night? I thought I dreamed it all.”</p><p>“I was here, cupcake, and so was your tall, gorgeous Englishman.”</p><p>“Dear lord,” she sighed. “He is gorgeous, isn’t he? And his voice, I can feel it down to my toes.”</p><p>“Lauren, I’m not sure where you’re at, but this man means business.” After a look at Lauren’s face, Dana laughed. “Okay, I get it. A bit much to handle all at once. Let’s start by getting you cleaned up and in this lovely thing that arrived this morning.” </p><p>Lauren looked at the soft bundle that turned out to be a cotton knit nightgown of pale green with soft lace trim.  It even came with pretty slippers. Dana handed her a card. ‘Feel better soon! Margie’.</p><p>After a cleanup and getting her hair washed, Lauren felt like a new woman, at least until Dana brought her breakfast. “I am not eating that,” she said firmly, looking at the congealed mess. </p><p>“At least eat the toast,” her nurse coaxed, sighing at the obdurate expression on Lauren’s face. “At least drink your coffee.” </p><p>It wasn’t much better than cop coffee, but Lauren was choking it down when Tom walked in, he looked like something out of GQ. She was so glad to be clean and in a pretty nightgown . </p><p>“Hello darling, you certainly look better this morning.” He pulled a McDonald’s bag out and gave it to her. An orderly came in with a huge floral arrangement and a big latte. </p><p>“You are a god!” She took the goodies and rustled into the bag. “No. Wait. Kiss me first.” He obliged. “Thank you, darling.”</p><p>Dragging a chair over, he sat beside her. “You look better this morning, nice and awake.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she said so warily that he laughed. </p><p>“So have you decided where we’re going on our honeymoon, darling?” He laughed again at what must have been her brief trapped expression. “You know I’d never hold you to anything said under the influence.”</p><p>“What exactly did I say?” she was wolfing down her breakfast.</p><p>“Some lovely things, some silly things, but you did not say yes.”</p><p>“So I said no?”</p><p>“No, you said ‘not yet’.” </p><p>Lauren felt her face warm, so he must have felt guilty for teasing her. She tried to talk about something neutral. “Dressed like this, you must have a meeting today.” <br/>“I do and I have to leave shortly. I just wanted to bring you some food. Everyone knows about hospital food.” </p><p>How was it that he could make her heart melt like this? “Take a look at that tray.” </p><p>He did and made a face. “Would you like a date for dinner?”</p><p>“Only if it’s you.” There had to be a dopey smile on her face. </p><p>“I’ll be here at 6:30.” Leaning over, he gave her a  lingering kiss. </p><p>Dear god, why did he do that to her heart every time he kissed her? It was a little scary. No, it was a lot scary. The last years had been about retaking control of her life and starting all over again. Could she really let go enough to love again? When he held her, she had no doubts, it was the rest of the time she was unsure. What did he see in her? Looking at the situation coldly, she was a broken ex-cop who had little to offer aside from her protection skills. And even those were in question now. There was no way this wonderful man could, or even should,  spend his life taking care of her. </p><p>As always, when she was restricted, the dark thoughts were not far away. Why had she fought so long and so hard for a life she could no longer live? Had her attempt at living a useful life made any difference at all? Maybe she should go to the Riviera and forget everything. Only the knowledge of the soulless existence she would endure kept her from it.  Losing her life in an attempt to save someone else was preferable to just spinning out the empty years remaining to her, however long or short they may be. </p><p>She couldn’t do anything here! The room was closing in on her and brought back older and darker memories. She had just sat up and swung her legs off the bed,<br/> When Dana came through the door. </p><p>“Lauren, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to be up on your own yet!”<br/>Then she looked at Lauren’s face and she opened the blinds at the window. “Is this better, kid?”</p><p>“A little. As long as I’m up, why don’t I move around some?” With Dana’s support, she walked a few steps and then a few more until Dana called a halt. </p><p>“And back in bed with you. Feel better now?” </p><p>“Yeah. Some.” Lauren let her head fall back against her pillow. “Maybe I’ll take a nap, now. How could I be normal yesterday and so weak today?” </p><p>“That’s what almost dying will do to you,” her friend said. “Take it easy on yourself. You’ll be out of here in a few days, if all goes well.” </p><p>Ignoring the last phrase, Lauren fell asleep. </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington walked down the hospital corridors without a guide. He always been quick to learn directions and the circuitous route he took to Lauren’s room kept him out of eyesight, so far at least. The press was going crazy trying to find out what had happened at his house and why Lauren was in the hospital. He didn’t know how much longer she would be here. Inevitably, word would get out sooner or later. He wanted her safe from that until she was stronger. It was a mystery to him why this strong, competent woman made him want to protect her so much. Part of it was that vulnerable look he saw in her eyes sometimes, a look that she hid so well from everyone else.</p><p>Outside her door he heard voices in the room, so he stopped in case it was one of her doctors. </p><p>“Well if it isn’t Lady McBeth,” Lauren said. “The last facial surgery didn’t go so well, did it?”</p><p>“Why won’t you just die?” That voice could have been born in a blizzard. “And here you are again, making a vulgar spectacle of yourself. Again. In the news, in scandal rags. Again.” </p><p>Lauren laughed without humor. “I missed you, too, mother.” </p><p>Having heard enough, Harrington tapped lightly on the door and walked in. “Hello, darling,” he said. </p><p>A cadaverously thin woman turned and looked him up and down. “It’s you. I should have known. Has she entertained you with tales of her unhappy childhood?” </p><p>“Not a word,” he said coolly, walking to stand beside Lauren, who had a closed expression on her face. He picked up her icy hand and kissed it. “Hello, darling, I’m sorry it took me so long. Traffic was terrible.”</p><p>“It is LA,” Lauren answered. </p><p>“Okay, I’ve got it.” Dana walked into the room. “It’s on record this time. Security will be here in a minute, Simone, and the police are on their way. You have violated your probation this time and all your fancy friends aren’t going to help you when they see this.”</p><p>“I’m a grieving mother here to see her injured daughter,” the woman protested, trying to arrange her face to show grief. The Botox and surgeries just made it grotesque.</p><p>“That doesn’t add up when you just told her she should die.” Security showed up and Simone was escorted from the room. “Sorry, hon, but we need to stop this permanently. The hospital charged her with trespassing after the last time she was here. There have got to be consequences for her behavior.” </p><p>“It’s all she understands,” Lauren answered, but her expression was closed. She wasn’t looking at him, but Harrington felt how her hand clung to his.</p><p>“I’m here. What can I do?” he asked tenderly. </p><p>“Don’t let go.” She still didn’t look at him, but she held his hand to her cheek.  “Thanks.” </p><p>“Lauren, you’re freezing.” Taking off his jacket, he wrapped it around her. “Here. Darling, lean on me.” </p><p>“I…can’t,” she choked out. “Maybe just for a moment.” Her head rested on his shoulder. “I’m not usually this wimpy with her. It’s just…”</p><p>He kissed the top of her head. “That you just almost died keeping me safe?”</p><p>“Silly, it is my job, after all.” She gave a watery chuckle. “Otherwise, I might never have met you.”</p><p>“Oh, we’d have met.” His arm around her tightened a bit. “Even if you were working, one look and I’d have tracked you down.” </p><p>She looked up at him. “Why? LA is full of beauties who would snap you up in a minute.”</p><p>She had no idea what a rare jewel she was, like a pink diamond, the rarest of the rare. Her green eyes were tired and she looked fragile, which was not usual. Normally, she was strong and seemed ready for anything. It took a brush with death to bring out this side of her. In the end, he kissed her gently. “I’m glad I’ll have the time to show you how wonderful you are.” </p><p>Dana walked through the door. “All right, you two lovebirds, break it up. You,” she pointed at Harrington, “into that chair. And you back in bed. Lie down.” </p><p>“Woof,” Lauren said, but she shot Dana a look that let Harrington know that his Lauren was back. He was amazed at the relief he felt.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>I'm posting on her behalf. </p><p>Original Character based on Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harrington’s dinner with Lauren went well, although she mostly played with her food instead of eating it. She did eat a few bites of her Cornish Game Hen with Wild Rice Stuffing. Soon after dinner, a call came in that he had to take, so he left the room. </p><p>**</p><p>Lauren woke in a strange room. It looked like some kind of hospital room.  Had her mother finally done what she threatened and had her locked up? Lauren felt sick and woozy. She hurt all over and her back hurt the worst. Was she missing school? Had she been in a wreck? Her mother’s driving was awful, but she did it anyway. But it didn’t matter what had happened, Lauren wanted out of here. </p><p>Sitting up, she was dizzy but she didn’t let it stop her. Just then a strange woman came into the room. She was short with red curly hair and she was dressed like some kind of a nurse. “Who are you?” Lauren snapped. “Where am I? Why am I here?”</p><p>The woman looked floored. “Lauren, I’m Dana. Don’t you remember me?” </p><p>“No,” Lauren said, “and you’d better get out of here! No one’s locking me up!”</p><p>“I’m leaving. Right now.” </p><p>Considering her situation, Lauren didn’t know what to do. She was in a nightgown, which was better than a hospital gown, but not by much. Panic started to set in. She was so hot and thirsty, and everything hurt. Part of her wanted to just give up and lie back down on the bed, but she had a strong will and she wasn’t about to let this stop her. Did Grand know where she was? That was a hopeful thought. Maybe she could call her and let Grand know where she was. For the moment, though, she wanted some water. She was so thirsty! </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington came back from his call, which had lasted longer than he thought, only to find Dana, a doctor and an orderly standing outside Lauren’s door in a serious conversation. “What’s wrong?” he asked. </p><p>Dana turned to him. “I think Lauren’s sick and delirious with fever. She doesn’t know me and got very upset when I came into her room. She seems to think somebody’s trying to lock her up. But we can’t forcibly tranquilize her because if she struggles she could tear out her stitches, and that could be deadly.”</p><p>Harrington thought for a moment. Could he talk her down from this? He would certainly try. “What do you think about me trying to talk to her? I’d leave if she got at all upset.”</p><p>The doctor considered for a minute. “It would Be worth a try,” he said at last. </p><p>Taking a breath, Harrington opened the door and walked in. The Lauren he saw sitting on the bed was someone he’d not met. “Hello Lauren.” This wasn’t his Lauren, but a scared and confused child. “I’m Tom. How are you feeling?” He kept his voice even and soft.</p><p>She looked uncertain. “Do I, do I know you?” </p><p>“Yes. We’ve known each other a couple weeks now. Do you mind if I sit down?” His poor darling was so afraid. He could only imagine how frightening it was not to know where she was, why she was there, or what was happening. </p><p>“Please sit.” She watched him as he got closer and sat in the chair. “I do know you but I’m not sure how. Can you please tell me how I know you?” </p><p>Harrington smiled at her reassuringly. He wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. </p><p>She held out her hand. “Please tell me, Tom. I promise that I’ll believe you. I’m so thirsty,” she added. </p><p>Pouring her a glass of ice water, he put it into her hand. “Is that better?” </p><p> </p><p>She drank so thirstily that it was an answer in itself. “How old are you, Lauren?” </p><p>“I’m sixteen,” she answered. “I wish you could take me to the prom.”</p><p>Could she be any more adorable? “I wish I could, too. Who are you going with?”</p><p>“I’m not going. My mother said I could only go with Dexter Strong 4th. He gives me the creeps, so I’m not going at all.None of the smart girls want anything to do with him. He hangs around my locker wanting to talk to me. Ick!” she shuddered, then peered at him. “I don’t recognize you, but I know you. It doesn’t make sense.” </p><p>“You’re very sick right now, darling. You got hurt and brought to this hospital.”</p><p>“Where’s my mother?” From the way she braced herself, Harrington could tell that the very thought of her mother frightened her.</p><p>“ I’m not sure, but I know she’s not in the hospital. You’re safe here, Lauren.”  </p><p>She sighed. “Okay, breathing room. So what’s going on?” </p><p>Harrington looked at her, his every instinct was to protect this darling young girl, but for better or worse, she had dealt with this part of her life. Still, he was very cautious about telling her what was happening. “Lauren, you’re very ill. You got hurt and now you have an infection. A bad one.”</p><p>“Son of a bitch.” Her mouth fell open. “Then how old am I?” </p><p>“You’re twenty nine. And you got hurt while you were saving my life.”</p><p>“I did that?” He could see reality starting to show in her eyes. “I…can almost see it. Tom?” She blinked rapidly, as if she was trying to focus her eyes. “Everything is so mixed up.” </p><p>“It’s going to be all right. I’m right here, darling.”</p><p>“I’d know you even if I was dead. What’s wrong with me?”</p><p>“You have an infection and a high fever, so you lost reality for a while. Can Dana and your doctor come in to help?” </p><p>“Yes, I guess so.I feel like such a fool.” </p><p>He saw the tears running down her cheeks and took out his handkerchief. “I’m not crying,” she insisted. “Bodyguards don’t cry.”</p><p>“Of course you’re not crying,” he soothed, mopping up her tears. </p><p>She snuffled into the handkerchief he held out and then relaxed against the pillows. “Tom, I am such a mess, but this is my life. You should be running for the hills.”  </p><p>“Darling, if I wanted easy I’d already have it. I fight for what I want.” Picking up her hand, he kissed it. “Let’s fight through this together, Lauren. Believe in us.” </p><p>“I do,” she promised, “but we need to slow things down a bit. I want both of us to be sure before we start making serious promises. You make my head spin.”</p><p>Leaning over, he kissed gently. “I’m only getting started. For the rest, We’ll make it up as we go on, my darling. I’ll see you in the morning.” </p><p>She didn’t look totally convinced, but the staff was coming in, so he didn’t argue.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written by Carrie Hunt. </p><p>I'm posting on her behalf. </p><p>Original Character based on actor Tom Hiddleston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lauren was standing in front of the window, staring out. She was almost ready to be released from the hospital. It couldn’t come soon enough for her. After her many surgeries over the last four years, she couldn’t wait to go. She’d had a discussion with Dana, who said the hospital wanted her in rehab for a couple of weeks. She had refused it completely. She had enough money to have people in to her condo for all the therapy she needed, and that’s what she intended to do. End of story. </p><p>And then there was Tom Harrington. Where was that going? Looking out the window, she could almost see a future that wasn’t forcing herself through each day  and doing the same the next day. Could they be happy together? Even if it was only for a while, it was a powerful lure: it had been so long since she was happy. And here was a man who said he loved her, and heavens, this man! It sounded like the plot of some sappy romance movie. </p><p>Sam had loved her, but he wasn’t romantic and he believed that she was tough enough to handle her own problems. He was quick to back her up in a fight and they burned it down in bed, but would it have been enough forever? Oddly, it was only after meeting Tom that she was able to look back and see some of these things. Before, it had simply hurt too much. </p><p>She briefly wished that Tom was here to help her figure it out, but then she decided that she couldn’t start relying on him that way. Other than her time as a cop, she had been pretty much of a loner, on the fringes of life. It was safer not to get too involved. She had already passed involved with Tom after a few days. There was an innate kindness and strength in this man  that drew her to him, but it was hard to trust. Her mother had taught her that lesson. </p><p>Footsteps outside her door made her look up. It was Dick Branson, her doctor. </p><p>“Hi, Lauren, do you have a minute?” </p><p>“I’m not going into rehab, Dick, so save your breath.” </p><p>“This is, um, about something else. I got a call from your mother today. She’s in quite a fix with this trespassing thing. Could you help her out?”</p><p>Ice ran down Lauren’s spine, but she was blazingly angry. “How long did it take, Dickie?” she snapped. “You’ve known me for four years. What did it take her, five minutes? Ten? And here you are, wanting me to let her off.”</p><p>Dick backed off. Lauren knew she looked dangerous. Even hurt, her fighting skills were something to be wary of. “I, it just seemed, if you’d only…”</p><p>She straightened, even though it hurt. If only had never been enough. She had realized long ago that it was impossible to please her mother. Growing up, her life had been made hideous with constant put downs, needling, and a complete lack of love.  “You are no longer my doctor, so get the fuck out of this room! Now!”  </p><p>As he scurried out, Lauren was so furious that she was leaving right then. She would go where she was in control of her life. </p><p>Dana came running in. “Lauren, what happened?” </p><p>“Dickie just turned out to be a dick, my mother got to him,” Lauren said. “And I need something to wear so that I can leave this…place.” </p><p>“Lauren, can we…?” Dana stopped and drew a breath. “I’ll be back in a minute. It’ll be scrubs, but they’re street wear around here.” </p><p>Lauren was pacing while she waited. She could feel the bars of the cage closing around her. “Never again!” she swore. She had been caught in that cage when she was a child and had fought it every step of the way, until she was old enough to escape. When she’d been so badly injured after Sam’s death, her mother had rushed to erase her life and was trying to put her in an institution before she came out of her coma. Just in time. </p><p>Dana came back with a set of scrubs and Lauren’s ID and wallet. Lauren already had her cell phone. “I’m so sorry, honey. Let me help you with this. As carefully as she could, the leads were removed and the butterfly was pulled out and sealed. Then she helped to pull the shirt on and pulled up the pants to keep her from straining the stitches in her back. “I even found your shoes.” </p><p>“Thanks, Dana.” Giving her a brief hug, Lauren made her way down and out the hospital front door. </p><p>**</p><p>Harrington was on his way to the hospital. He had a busy day lined up, but he had carved out enough time to see Lauren. It was amazing how empty his great house seemed when she was gone. When his phone rang, he almost didn’t answer it until he saw it was from Dana, Lauren’s nurse. “Hi, Dana. What’s wrong?” </p><p>“It’s a mess,” the nurse answered. “Lauren’s mother got to Lauren’s doctor and he tried to persuade her to remove her restraining order so that the hospital would drop the trespassing charges against her.”</p><p>“I’m sure that went well. Her mother really is a monster.”</p><p>“Yes, she is,” Dana agreed. “And she never misses a chance to kick Lauren when she’s down.”</p><p>Harrington sighed. Lauren had suffered enough from her mother. He would deal with this. “Where is Lauren now?” </p><p>“I think she’s outside the front entrance. She said something about calling Uber.” </p><p>“I’m almost there,” he said, “I think I see her right now. Thanks, Dana.” How could Lauren make hospital scrubs look fashionable? Her shimmering hair was pulled carelessly over her shoulder. It wasn’t until he was close enough to see her face that his heart dropped. As an actor, he had studied different kinds of trauma, in case he needed to use it in a role. But his Lauren had the thousand yard stare on her lovely face. Pulling over, he got out of the car. “Lauren,”he said gently, “I’m here.” </p><p>Her eyes focused. “Tom?” She looked around her vaguely. “I’m waiting for Uber.”</p><p>“Will I do instead?” He smiled at her with all the charm he could muster. He was so angry for her. Why had she been so alone for so long? He was seeing answers here, but his lady wasn’t alone anymore. He held out his hand. “Shall we go home, darling?” </p><p>Slowly, she put her hand in his. “Yes.” </p><p>Gathering her gently, he tucked her in his car. “You do know that you’re parked illegally?” she pointed out. </p><p>Harrington laughed. </p><p> </p><p>*** Lauren and Tom’s adventures will continue.</p>
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